Stalked
by clearlyobsessed2005
Summary: Stalked is a fan fiction piece derived from the Stephenie Meyer Twilight series.


Stalked

by

Clearly Obsessed

Statement of Intent:

This manuscript is intended as a work of pure fan fiction and everything that implies. These characters are not my invention, nor is much of the plot line. I have enjoyed the Stephenie Meyer _Twilight_ books immensely, perhaps obsessively. As I read them, I noticed several dark themes and explored them on my own. The result of those explorations is _Stalked_. I hope you enjoy it and that it may provoke further explorations of the Meyer books.

Draft 7/2011

But his kind will always lose in the end. I know this, and now I know why. Whether it's a wife or nation they occupy, their mistake is the same: they stand still, and their stake moves underneath them. _The Pharaoh died_, says Exodus, _and the children of Israel sighed by reason of their bondage_. Chains rattle, rivers roll, animals startle and bolt, forests inspire and expand, babies stretch open-mouthed from the womb, new seedlings arch their necks and creep forward into the light. Even a language won't stand still. A territory is only possessed for a moment in time. They stake everything on that moment, posing for photographs while planting the flag, casting themselves in bronze. Washington crossing the Delaware. The capture of Okinawa. They're desperate to hang on.

But they can't. Even before the flagpole begins to peel and splinter, the ground underneath arches and slides forward into its new destiny….

To live is to change, to acquire the words of a story, and that is the only celebration we mortals really know. In perfect stillness, frankly, I've only found sorrow.

Orleanna Price, _The Poisonwood Bible_ by Barbara Kingsolver

A hero becomes one who safeguards his or her own individual integrity at almost

any cost.

Azar Nafisi, _Reading Lolita in Tehran_

Edward's Pursuit: Part One

Only lean on me; I will advise and direct you. I should not be a man if this womanly helplessness did not just give you a double attractiveness in my eyes.

Torvald Helmer, _A Doll's House_ by Henrik Ibsen

Illusions mistaken for truth are the pavement under our feet. They are what we call civilization.

Adah Price, _The Poisonwood Bible_ by Barbara Kingsolver

I saw that the expression of bewilderment had come back into Gatsby's face, as though a faint doubt had occurred to him as to the quality of his present happiness. Almost five years [since he had seen Daisy]! There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams—not through her own fault but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion. It had gone beyond her, beyond everything. He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.

Nick Carraway, _The Great Gatsby_ by F. Scott Fitzgerald

My life was as perfect as I could imagine it. Carlisle and Esme were wonderful parents, and my brothers and sisters provided all the companionship I needed. As vampires who abstained from human blood, we were able to establish prolonged residencies along side human populations. We lived in Forks, Washington. With its frequent cloud cover or precipitation, Forks allowed us to act like humans during the day, so Carlisle could work at the hospital and my brothers and sisters and I could attend high school and then college. In sunnier places, the way our skin looks in sun light would have limited us to evening and night activity.

Though everyone was paired up in my family, Carlisle and Esme, Rosalie and Emmett, and Alice and Jasper, I had never met anyone I wanted to be with. I contented myself with my music and my studies and with the companionship of my family members. High school was a charade my siblings and I endured so we could stay in one place for as long as possible. We tended to keep to ourselves, and, by and large, our human classmates were only too happy to leave us to ourselves—reacting both consciously and unconsciously to our alienness. We were the source of considerable gossip and speculation from our classmates. First, we were five teenage, "foster" kids living with the young Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, and second, Rosalie and Emmett and Alice and Jasper were paired up romantically, and though as foster children, they were unrelated biologically, the fact that we all lived together outraged small-town sensibilities. Since I was obviously unattached, I was a significant source of curiosity, a fact I ignored. A relationship between a human and someone like me was unimaginable. More importantly, I was content as I was, with my family, the life we lived, and the distractions I found for myself.

And so it shocked me when I found Alice at my bedroom door, with her eyes excited and expectant, and I could see the strange images in her head. She had seen me with a girl, a human girl, with long, dark, brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. I loved this girl, passionately and obsessively. I agonized over this girl and fought for her, and she was woven into the fabric of our family, both as a human and as an immortal. She became one of us, a vampire, and we, she and I, would be together forever. The force of the vision—the emotions that were associated with it—stunned me and scared me. It was impossible on so many levels. How could I possibly avoid killing her? Even if I could manage being in close proximity to her without killing her, how could she ever want to be with me when she figured out what I was? Even if she could accept me as a vampire, having her know about me and my family would put us all at risk from the Volturi who enforced the secrecy of our world.

"Alice, it can't be," I said, staggered.

"I have seen it, Edward; she is coming. She has made up her mind. She will be here in January," she answered calmly.

I shook my head. "She's a girl, Alice; she is a human."

"It won't matter; you will find a way or the strength to make it work," she said. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. She was happy for me, and I felt the depth of that happiness and its sincerity in her thoughts, but I couldn't believe this vision. It was utterly impossible.

Over the next few weeks, though I tried to pretend that it didn't affect me, I wound and rewound Alice's vision of the human girl in my mind. She was pretty and thoughtful. There was something about the vision that I found frustrating—incomplete in some way that I didn't understand. I found myself drawn to the piano, playing out the indistinct emotions that I felt—excitement and joy, longing and anticipation, and disappointment and sorrow because it couldn't end well.

All of my family members knew about Alice's vision. They tried to hide their worries from me because they loved me, but the truth was that this relationship threatened to expose us all.

My brothers tried to joke with me about it. Hunting alone with Emmett, I confessed how clueless I was about dating and relationships. He laughed heartily, "Edward, if you direct your full attention on her, she won't have a chance. Think of our advantages. Go gently. Test your power over her, but remember power you will have. Use it. Your main concern is going to be not killing her—not her failing to fall in love with you."

"What if I do kill her?" I asked hesitantly.

"We'll leave Forks—even if it is messy, we'll get away; we've done it before," he said lightly. "You _would_ choose the most impossible relationship," he teased, "but I suppose the whole mind-reading thing will give you a boost even there." He shook his head and chortled to himself.

I wished I could feel relieved, but I didn't. I could feel the concern that Carlisle, in particular, felt about the situation. He tried to hide it from me, but I knew, and I worried too.

The start of the new term arrived. On the morning of the first day, Alice seemed more enthusiastic than normal, but I didn't find that particularly odd. Her emotions were often hard to contain. At school, we fell into our regular patterns. Nothing seemed different. At lunch, however, I became more apprehensive. Alice was more excited, and I suddenly understood the reason. The girl of her vision was there in the cafeteria; she sat at the far end of the room from us with a bunch of our classmates. She looked uncomfortable and self-conscious, but I realized there was more. I couldn't read _her_ mind; when I looked at her or concentrated on her, there was nothing, a blank. I was stunned. I had never encountered anyone, human or immortal, whose mind I could not read. I felt chagrin and even anger.

Alice picked up on my emotions. "What is it?" she demanded. "It's her. What can you hear?"

"I can't hear anything! I can't hear her thoughts, Alice. What does that mean?" I asked back.

Emmett whistled and then snickered. "Finally. You deserve her—someone who can neutralize that advantage of yours. I am going to enjoy watching this," he said under his breath.

Alice's face was shocked and then controlled. "I don't know what it means, Edward. I saw her future because it interlinked with yours and ours. I wonder if Jasper can affect her or if I can see her when she is doing something that doesn't involve you," she said slowly. She shook her head.

Jasper said nothing, but Rosalie scowled. She hated this—every aspect of it—a human girl involved in our future, involved with me. Rosalie saw her as a threat and, a little vainly, as a rival. To be honest, I felt threatened by her too; she was a blind spot, an Achilles heel, and I wondered if she would be my downfall, too.

I went off to biology preoccupied and moody. Who was this girl? How could this girl I couldn't read become entwined in my life and the life of my family? I couldn't imagine it. I took my seat and waited for class to begin.

I wasn't paying attention when she walked in the room. I guess she went to the teacher's desk, but suddenly, violently, I caught her scent.

SCENT. OVERWHELMING SCENT. _HER_ SCENT. THIRST. DESIRE. FEAR. LONGING. RAGE AND FURY.

I held my breath and glared at her. I had never smelled anything like her before. I wanted her blood. It took everything I had not to launch myself at her right there in the classroom in front of the whole class and the teacher. I thought of my father and my family. I forced myself to look away from her and pretend nothing was wrong, but it was excruciating, the smell was so powerful.

Distracted as I was fighting the urge to rip her throat out and drink her blood, I could tell that my violent reaction to her had registered with her, poor thing. She blushed and sniffed at her hair. She glanced at me furtively, and in my tortured state, all I could do was glare back at her.

As soon as it was possible, I escaped the inferno of the classroom. I flew from the room as quickly as I could get away with. I couldn't be subjected to that every day. I sought to re-arrange my schedule, but there was no other biology class with a seat available. And then there she was again, in the office, her scent pervading the room, and I had to fight the overwhelming desire to take her there and then or to lure her from the office or the school to a more private place where no one would see me drink her blood and drain her life away. I turned away from the secretary and glared at the girl again before I could escape the office and the school. I saw the shock cross her face as she again registered my anger and revulsion. I cared, but it was more important to get away from her, to breathe fresh air, to escape the temptation that her scent inflamed in me.

I was tense and preoccupied when I met my brothers and sisters at the car. They sensed that and tried to get me to talk, but I couldn't. I couldn't even explain it to myself. I felt weak and unnerved. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I didn't have control, and I always had control. My mind-reading abilities usually gave me even more control than just being an immortal with superhuman strength and speed and senses. Now I was suddenly vulnerable. I couldn't read her mind, and I wanted her blood in an irrational and pathological way. Everything I trusted about myself seemed to have been ripped away. She made me so assailable, and I hated her for it.

I left my brothers and sisters and went to see Carlisle at the hospital. I tried to explain to him what had happened. He couldn't explain it either, but he was sympathetic. He gave me his car, and I left to stay with Tanya and her family, our extended family, in Alaska. We considered ourselves extended family because we were all "vegetarian" vampires. With Carlisle's full tank of gas, I drove for hours. Alone in the speeding car I tried to make sense of what was happening. The smell of the girl's blood drove me out of my mind. How my desire for her blood could be reconciled with Alice's vision of this girl and me romantically involved, I couldn't imagine. It made no sense.

In Alaska, my cousins greeted me warmly—Tanya, perhaps too warmly. She had fancied me—but I didn't return the affection. It was good to be with them, Tanya, Irina, Kate, Carmen, and Eleazar. I couldn't tell them, but it was good to have company, and even better to be in Alaska, away from _her_. Then the guilt began to consume me. I had upset Esme by leaving; I had left my family. Who was this girl? A mere mortal. I could, I would control myself and go back to my family. So I returned. Esme was elated to have me back and fussed over me; the others were welcoming and yet wary. Most of us couldn't imagine how this would work out positively. Only Alice seemed completely confident that everything would be fine. Before returning to school, I hunted, so that no threat of thirst would taint my next encounter with her.

At school, I scanned through the thoughts of the kids she had sat next to at lunch that first day the following week; her name was Isabella Swan, though she preferred "Bella," Italian for "beautiful." It made me think of "Beauty and the Beast"; could she, like Beauty, choose to love the beast, the monster, once she knew what he was? But I couldn't transform back into a human prince; I would always be the monster. Could I transform her into a monster like me? NO! I couldn't imagine forcing a vampire life on another soul who wasn't dying. A relationship between the two of us was hopeless.

At lunch, I looked at her, Bella Swan. She was beautiful. Her large, dark eyes contrasted with her pale, ivory skin. Her lips were full and lush and a rich rose color that was echoed in her checks. A mane of thick brown hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She was more beautiful than the images Alice had seen. Jessica noticed me looking at her and whispered to her; Bella glanced up at me and then down at the table. I cringed as I heard her ask Jessica if I seemed angry with her. Bella had noticed all too well my revulsion that first day—but she didn't understand it. I didn't hate her; I hated my desire to kill her and drain her blood. There it was again. A mind I couldn't read. I was so frustrated. My eyes flickered back to her unconsciously.

Emmett laughed softly; "Edward, experiment, see what your voice and your eyes do to her. Talk to her. I am telling you; she will be helpless."

I wanted to believe him so badly. Though I tried to push Alice's visions from my mind, I felt completely out of control. I longed for her blood, but there was more. I longed for her—in a way that I had never before imagined. It was almost painful.

She was already there at the desk when I entered biology. She didn't look up when I took my seat, so I spoke to her. She looked up into my eyes, and I knew I had power over her—just like Emmett had said. I could hear her unsteady intake of breath and the acceleration of her heart. I made her uncomfortable! It was so ironic. I let my eyes smolder and engaged her in conversation. Our lab involved using a microscope to identify the phases of mitosis. I was careless with the first slide, and my hand touched hers fleetingly. The coldness of my hand made her pull away from mine quickly, and stared at me with surprise and shock in her eyes. Such a stupid mistake. But she didn't realize that I was just as stunned by her touch. It was warm in a peculiarly appealing way. I wanted to touch her again—to feel her warmth—to really feel it. There was something dangerous in this unnerving desire for the heat of her body, and I fought against it and struggled to complete the rest of the lab without touching her.

She was staggered by my looks and voice and attention, and I was enamored of her. Some essential part of me was drawn to her or maybe the idea of having her so completely under my control. And I could control her, I understood that now. I could have her; the trick would be making her think that my manipulations of her actions were, in fact, choices that she had made herself. I pondered the possibilities off and on all day and into the night.

I wondered how to stage things so that Bella would feel she was in control. I was anxious. The icy morning didn't distract me from the strange anxiety I felt. My brothers and sisters and I arrived at school as usual. I leaned against my car watching the other students and watching Bella as she arrived absorbed in her own thoughts. Emotions flashed across her face, and I wished that I could know what they were. And then Tyler's van was skidding across the parking lot in a path that would crush Bella between it and her own truck. I was paralyzed for a moment. She would be killed. There would be blood—her blood. Some part of me went giddy at the thought of her blood exposed, pouring over the asphalt, inviting me to feed on what I desired most in the world, and my horrible desire shocked me and brought me back to my senses.

Though I knew that I shouldn't interfere, I couldn't help myself. I knew I could move fast enough so that no one would see what I was doing, and I flew to Bella, stopped the van, and moved her out of the way. Although I knew my rescue would cause problems, as I felt her pressed her against my body and some of her glorious warmth leeching through my body, I felt there had been no other choice. I had to save her; it was meant to be. She was the problem; in saving her, I exposed myself to her, that I was beyond human—even if she didn't understand or couldn't make sense of it. She called me on it; she asked me how I had done it. I lied, and I used the power of my eyes to get her to drop her questions there at the accident scene.

At the hospital, Bella wouldn't let it go. She was angry, but I was angrier. I hadn't just exposed myself to her. My exposure threatened the exposure of my entire family, and they all knew it. Rosalie was particularly furious. But I couldn't just let Bella get crushed to death in front of me.

At home, we fought.

"Edward, how could you? You haven't just exposed yourself; you have implicated us all. It's against our laws. She can't know," stormed Rosalie. Her eyes flashed angrily as she glared at me.

"Rose is right, Edward; this is dangerous for all of us," said Jasper. "We need to consider the options." He spoke calmly, and his calmness radiated through the room, even calming Rosalie.

"We could leave and start somewhere fresh or Edward could," suggested Emmett.

"There must be some way you can stay," Esme said softly. Her eyes pleaded with me. She didn't want me to go; she wanted our family whole. My absence would cause her pain.

"This will work out," said Alice. "I have seen it. We shouldn't go and neither should Edward. She will be one of us." Alice's voice was confident, but I couldn't share her sentiment.

"I don't know. I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless. She drives me crazy, but I couldn't let her get killed in front of me. Can you imagine what would have happened if I had let the van hit her and her blood had been spilled there in the parking lot with how it appeals to me?" I asked darkly.

"You would have fed on her right there," answered Alice. "Jasper might have even joined you," she added for emphasis. "You had to save her, Edward. Stop trying to resist this."

Jasper scowled at Alice, but his thoughts betrayed him. He wasn't so sure she wasn't right about his lack of control around spilt blood.

"I am sorry. I feel awful about endangering us. I will stay away from her as much as I am able," I promised.

Carlisle shook his head. "Edward, I believe that this will work out. I think Alice is right. So far you have shown remarkable control. We can always re-assess later. For now, we should stay, and you should stay," he said gently. He smiled at me, and I felt comforted. Alice, Carlisle, and Esme were on my side. Though Rosalie, Jasper, and Emmett disapproved, I knew Rose was the most adamantly opposed, and part of Emmett hoped for my relationship with Bella because of the potential excitement it could bring if I failed to control myself and some how even if I succeeded in controlling myself. He wanted a challenge.

The next day at school, I had to repair the damage. I had to protect my family. I would ignore Bella; I would return to the pattern of my life before Alice's impossible vision. It wasn't easy. I found that I was hyperaware of Bella Swan. I noticed her truck in the parking lot. I noticed her in the cafeteria, what she wore, how she had done her hair, and who she sat with. I tried not to notice, but my eyes were drawn to her. I thought of her constantly. I was obsessed with her. I felt like the stalker in The Police song, "Every Move You Make." My mind listened to the thoughts of her friends to see if she told them anything about the accident, but she remained silent on her theory that I had saved her and moved a van to do so. She surprised me and irritated me. Biology was the worst because we were right next to each other and her scent was still so powerful and overwhelming. Weeks passed. I was miserable. As much as I tried to ignore her, she pervaded my thoughts.

The spring dance approached, and the thoughts of our schoolmates were full of excitement. Who was going with whom. Who wanted to go with whom but was actually going with someone else. Anticipation and pleasure and disappointment and rejection. It seemed so petty. And then, I did suddenly care. Mike Newton, Eric, and Tyler were all entertaining thoughts about themselves and Bella and the dance. I didn't know what I felt. I felt a kind of rage, an irrational hatred, toward them, particularly Mike Newton. Bella was better than any of them. She couldn't go to a dance with one of them; she couldn't date one of them. With shock, I realized just how badly I wanted her, wanted Bella Swan. She had to be mine! I was jealous of these boys who entertained ideas of themselves and my Bella.

I sat tense in biology as Bella walked in, trailed by Mike Newton who was struggling with what to say to ask her to the dance. I wanted to hit him, to physically hurt him. I struggled to contain my rage, my jealousy. She surprised me; she rejected him. She said she had to go to Seattle that weekend and told him to take Jessica. Relief swept over me, and I stared at her. She stared back, and there was an intensity between us. I felt it in the core of my being, and judging from the fact that her hands began to shake, I assumed that she felt it too. The teacher called on me, and I looked away from Bella.

At the end of class, I lingered; I wanted to talk to her. I needed to warn her that for her own good, she should stay away from me, and yet I wanted her to ignore that warning. I wanted to be with her. It didn't go well. I suppose that six weeks of ignoring her had appeared rude and unfeeling; she seemed to think that I regretted saving her life in the parking lot. Her conclusion shocked me, and I was frustrated and even angry that I couldn't explain, that she couldn't know about me and my family. She stormed away from me, but caught her foot on the door and dropped her books. I helped her gather them, but she was still angry at me.

Leaving school, I listened as both Eric and Tyler asked Bella to the dance, and I felt again the anger at their romantic interest in Bella and the relief as she rejected them. Their invitations made her uncomfortable or irritated; the emotions that flashed over her face as they asked her amused me. She didn't want them.

That evening I was restless. I felt tormented. The emotions that this girl aroused in me were unrecognizable. My music didn't calm me; when the agitation was too much, I left the house and ran through the forest. At first, there was no direction or set destination, and then I hit her scent, and I followed it instinctively. I followed it to her house; her truck was parked in front. It was late; the house was dark. I shouldn't have been there, but I couldn't help myself. I could hear her soft-breathing; I could hear the rhythm of her heart beating; she was deeply asleep. Hearing her was suddenly not enough; I wanted to see her, to touch her. Very slowly and gently, I eased her bedroom window up and climbed into her room.

There she lay across her bed. Her brown hair fanned out around her face like a dark halo. She had thrashed with her blankets which exposed her shoulder and right arm. She looked and smelled so moist and warm. Though I wanted to drink her blood, I wanted something more. I wanted to hold her in my arms, and I wanted her to want me to hold her. I walked over and gently stroked her face. It was so warm and soft; her warmth seemed to penetrate my fingers. She reacted to the touch. Suddenly, I was afraid that I risked too much and that she would wake, but she startled me by saying my name; "Edward," she murmured. I was stunned. My heart, silent, cold, and unchanging, seemed to swell in my chest. She rolled over and said my name again. I was elated. She was dreaming about me, saying my name in her sleep. If only I could read her mind; the prospect of reading her dreams as she dreamed about me made long for it all the more. What were we doing? Was she in my arms? Were we doing more? What could we do, a human and a vampire?

I couldn't leave. I fantasized about her all night. I knew it was wrong to be in her room, but I was close to her, and I wasn't sure she would let me be so close to her any other way, so I stayed and imagined her dreams about me and imagined us trying to be together. It was erotically arousing and completely unimaginable; intimate physical contact with her would be dangerous for her, and yet it was hard not to entertain the images that coursed through my head, touching, kissing, more touching, more kissing, the warmth of her body against mine, her body responding to mine and mine to hers, her body under my hands and her hands on my body, our bodies connected, having sex. It was all completely impossible, but the images continued. Impossible or not, I would try to win her; I wanted her. As the sun rose, I stroked her face again very gently and kissed her hair, and then I left.

I waited for her in the school parking lot. I wanted to ask her to go with me to Seattle the day of the dance, but I annoyed her. I told her I held her up in the parking lot so Tyler could ask her to the dance. I tried to clarify my warning that it would be better for her if she stayed away from me—and to confess that I didn't want to stay away from her any longer. I knew that my voice and my eyes made it difficult for her to refuse me, and she didn't. She agreed to come with me to Seattle. I left her speechless by the cafeteria. I was pleased with my easy success.

At lunch, I sat alone, hoping that Bella would join me and we could talk some more. I watched her as she walked into the cafeteria and glanced at the table with my brothers and sisters. I saw the disappointment flash across her face as she registered that I wasn't sitting with them. I was delighted by her reaction. She was disappointed that I wasn't there; it mattered to her. Jessica was kind enough to call Bella's attention to me sitting and waiting for her. I motioned to Bella to join me and had the satisfaction of watching her face flush as she walked toward me. I could hear her heart accelerate as she walked toward me and her breathing become slightly quicker in response to the stress of my invitation.

I asked her to join me, and she accepted. As we talked, I experimented with my eyes and my voice. I could hear her heart race and the blood rush to her cheeks when she felt like she gave too much away. My eyes could make her confused; helpless under my gaze, she usually told me the truth. She admitted trying to rationalize the van/parking lot incident through comic book super hero stories. I tried to warn her again, to think of me as a "bad guy." She grasped more than I intended her to. She guessed that I was dangerous, but she refused to see me as bad. But I knew what I was, a vampire, one of the eternally damned. There was no hope, and yet here I was pursuing this girl who I loved. Wanting her to find in me enough that she could love. It was so confusing. Everything seemed upside down now. Nothing made sense, and I was content to let it be so, for now.

I told her I wasn't going to biology. I warned her that skipping class now and then was good for a person, but off she went. Only a little while later, I saw them, Mike Newton with Bella's arm over his shoulder and her body limp against his as he steered toward the main office. Fury swept over me. Was she hurt? Had he hurt her? I fought to remain in control as I walked over to them. She wasn't hurt. Blood typing in biology had made her sick. I fought the urge to laugh. She fainted at the sight of blood! How did that reconcile with dating a vampire? I picked her up and carried her to the nurse's office, ignoring Mike's protests. Even through her heavy clothes, I could feel the warmth of her body pervade my arms. It was tantalizing. In the nurse's office, she startled me by saying that blood smelled like "rust and salt." It not only smelled like that, it tasted like it—I would know. How curious that she would know too.

Bella didn't want to go to gym, her last period of the day, so I convinced Ms. Cope that I should drive Bella home. On our way to the parking lot, Bella asked me come with them to the beach, First Beach on the Quileute reservation. Of course, I couldn't go there, none of my family could; it would violate the treaty my family had with the Quileutes, but she couldn't know that. I declined, and then she started walking toward her truck. I grabbed her jacket to avoid direct contact with her skin—fearing her reaction to my unnatural, ice-cold hands. She looked at me in confusion, but I insisted on driving her home. I told Ms. Cope that I was taking her home, I explained; I had to threaten her to get her to accept my ride.

She was angry at first, but the music playing on my CD player in the car, Debussy, surprised her. That she recognized "Claire de Lune" surprised me too. So much about this odd girl seemed fated for me (that I wanted her blood so badly, that I couldn't read her mind, her mind alone, that she fainted at the sight of blood, that she loved the music that I loved)—it seemed to make everything more impossible and more possible at the same time.

I asked her about her mother and Phil. She asked me what my definition of "too scary" was, but I ignored her and asked another question, could she see me as scary? She said that she thought I could be if I wanted to be, and then she deflected my questions by asking about my family. I told her that Emmett and I were ditching school the rest of the week, hiking in Goat Rocks Wildness. I stared into her eyes, allowing them to smolder, and asked her to be careful. I could see that she was helpless under my power—only her annoyance at my perception of her as a "danger magnet" freed her from the force of my eyes.

The weekend was torture. I needed to hunt. The prey was interesting at Goat Rocks, grizzlies and mountain lions. I usually enjoyed Emmett's company. In fact, I did enjoy it, but I was so distracted. My mind constantly worried about Bella and what she was doing. I was obsessed with her. It drove Emmett crazy. "Focus, Edward. We are hunting!" he repeated over and over. He empathized with me; he conceded that I had it bad—this longing for this impossible relationship with the human, Bella Swan. When he wasn't annoyed that I wasn't paying attention to the hunt, he was laughing over the idiocy of my situation. It was a long weekend. Monday morning it was sunny and clear in Forks, so we were confined to the house or remote places in the forest where no one would see our skin in the sun light. Tuesday was the same.

I asked Jasper and Emmett about their attractions to human blood. I wanted to know if they had ever encountered a human whose blood was as alluring as Bella's was to me. Jasper said no. I knew it was hard for him to abstain from human blood at all. Though he and Alice had been with us for fifty years, his different upbringing (being part of a newborn army and then creating and destroying newborns in addition to feeding on humans for decades without remorse) made it difficult for him to abstain and to even register the different nuances of flavor and scent between humans. Emmett understood more of what I meant. I tried to describe the attraction I had to Bella's scent, to her blood, it was rust and salt, but more, floral and intoxicating, and powerful, so very powerful.

"Twice, I have smelled a scent that had some of that kind of power," Emmett confessed darkly. "I couldn't control myself. Each time the scent drove me out of mind. There was no control. I don't know how you are able to be so close to her if she smells so powerfully to you. It's impressive, Edward."

Jasper chimed in, "Don't give him anything else to feel superior about, Emmett; he is cocky enough without that too."

"The real test will be their little outing," Emmett teased.

"I'll bet you he fails; he won't be strong enough. He'll kill her," said Jasper.

"You're on," said Emmett. "A good FBI chase would give us a challenge we haven't had in a while."

"You're disgusting," I retorted, and I left them haggling out the details of their sorted wager.

Though I wasn't in school, I knew Bella was fine. I watched her each night as she slept. Tossing and turning and saying my name. I caressed her face and her body where it was exposed from the blankets—always very carefully and very gently—not wanting to wake her. I loved to feel her warmth in my fingers and hand. It was like she became part of me when she transferred her warmth to me; it didn't matter how brief the sensation was. My thoughts, in her room next to her unconscious body, were barely manageable. My imagination went wild: kissing, touching, and more. I wanted this girl; I wanted her so badly that it caused me distress.

Tuesday afternoon, I realized that Bella was going to Port Angeles with Jessica and Angela to help them shop for dresses for the dance. It was crazy, but I followed them. The anxiety I had felt all weekend away from Bella made me feel unable to be separated from her. I was content to just be there, where she was. I didn't want her to see me; that might be too weird for her. And I had to admit to myself that it was weird and could be considered creepy, following her, stalking her. But I couldn't help myself. I had to be where she was. They looked at dresses for a while. Suddenly, I realized that Bella was not with Jessica and Angela any more, and I felt panic. I started looking for Bella, for the bookstore she wanted to go to. I couldn't find her. I searched through the minds of people on the streets, and then I saw his picture of Bella in his mind. He hoped to have his friends corner her, and he hoped to hold her down and kiss and rape her, the four of them and Bella. Rage flooded my mind. I was shaking with rage and indignation.

Bella was mine. I couldn't abide the thought of someone touching her intimately. Not Mike Newton, or Eric or Tyler. Certainly not this thug and his goonies. And not that way! Bella was too beautiful, too innocent. Rape was vile and savage. Bella needed to be loved, worshipped, made love to. If anyone was going to deflower Bella Swan, I wanted it to be me and only me. How that could ever be possible, I wasn't sure. I couldn't think about it now. I floored the Volvo and drove to Bella. She was there; the four men surrounding her. My rage flared. I wanted to kill them. I wanted to rip them limb from limb. I wanted it to hurt, to cause the kind of fear and agony and pain they had wished to inflict on Bella. Bella! I needed to help Bella; I forced myself to concentrate on her and her alone.

As I drove toward her, she seemed poised to take some kind of action. I spun the Volvo around scattering her assailants and opened the passenger door for her and commanded her to get in the car. She obeyed. Obvious relief and gratitude flitted over her pale face. I felt intense relief too. She was safe; she was with me and away from them and the violence and danger they posed. I struggled with the anger and rage I felt toward them, her would-be attackers. I just drove until we were far enough away for me to risk stopping the car. She was struggling with her emotions too much to notice me at first, but then she did. She noticed that I was furious and asked me if I was okay. What could I say, I was beyond reason. I wanted to kill them for trying to hurt her, for their willingness and eagerness to sexually assault and rape her. She was mine, and I would defend her and kill for her. Part of Alice's vision flashed through my mind, and I realized that it was coming true as impossible as it seemed. I loved her; I would obsess over her, and I would fight for her. She _was_ my life. I had to have her, had to have her with me, had to have her safe. I tried to explain a little of my anger, but then she reminded me that she was supposed to meet Jessica and Angela for dinner.

I turned the car around and drove to the restaurant. Jessica and Angela had eaten, but I didn't want to be alone. I insisted on taking Bella to dinner. She protested, but I ignored her. I knew that she wouldn't refuse me alone time with so many questions running through her head (about the near fatal van accident and now about my saving her from assault). The mystery that I presented for her made me smile—it was another way to keep me on her mind, to keep her preoccupied and obsessed with me.

La Bella Italia wasn't crowded, but I asked the hostess to seat us somewhere more private. We were taking things to a new level. I had exposed myself again—as being something more than human—and she would know, she would ask about it. I wasn't sure what to tell her, but I wanted her, so that meant that I needed to reveal something of myself—I just wasn't sure how much.

She surprised me yet again. She accused me of dazzling people. I pretended that I didn't understand what she meant, but I did. I dazzled people to my advantage regularly; we all did—my family members and others of my kind. Vampires dazzle their normal human prey to get so close. People in my family don't dazzle people to eat them, but to have things turned in our favor like class schedules and the best tickets at concerts or the like. Of course, I knew the power of my eyes and voice and looks and smell. I used my powers regularly. I used them on her. It was interesting to know that she was conscious of my powers. She was observant—more observant than I realized. She had figured out what the shift in my eye color meant. When my eyes were dark, I was thirsty, but when my eyes were light, I wasn't. She shivered after drinking her soda, and I offered her my jacket. I took intense pleasure in watching her watch me and then in hearing her inhale my scent from the jacket and watching her blush. She was beautiful, and the deep blue of her shirt intensified the paleness of her skin and the rose color of her lips and cheeks.

She asked me why I was in Port Angeles, but I put her off at first. Under her questioning, I admitted that I could read minds, and I warned her again that I was dangerous for her, but she refused to see me that way and touched my hand—the warmth even in the brief touch before I pulled my hand away was wonderful. I finally confessed to following her; I read the minds of the men who had wanted to assault her and, therefore, knew where to find her. Though I re-emphasized that I was dangerous for her, she was determined to see me as her savior—from the van and from the men. She didn't realize that I had fought myself over and over again that first day from killing her myself.

We left the restaurant; she had promised to tell me her latest theory on "what I was" in the car on the way home. She asked me about my mind reading, and I told her some about it. She asked about why I couldn't read hers, and I told her my theory. She thought she was the odd one, not me, the monster. Theories brought us back to her promise to tell me her latest one about me on the way home. She hesitated. I prompted by asking about comic books, but she confused me with a preamble about family friends and stories. Then she qualified; the stories of the family friends were Quileute, and I knew what their stories would say about us. She said it, vampires. She explained how she "tricked" the story out of Jacob Black, and I felt a flash of violent anger toward him—as much as I felt for Mike Newton. I pictured in my mind Bella flirting with Jacob as I wanted her to flirt with me—and though I watched and touched her each night in her bedroom, the idea of a conscious Bella wanting me and flirting with me created such a desperate longing in me that it caused me discomfort.

She knew. I was a vampire, the undead, the eternally damned who feed on human blood. I began to steel myself against the repulsion I knew must follow. And she surprised me yet again. She told me that she didn't care what I was. She knew I was a vampire and part of vampire family that did not feed on humans. I was shocked. How could she not care? Could she really be making this impossible situation possible? I was angry at her. How could she be making choices like being with me that would endanger her? She asked me how old I was. When I answered automatically, she asked how long I had been seventeen. She asked about the myths surrounding vampires. She asked about the Quileute myths about us, and I reminded her that I was dangerous and dangerous to her. The questions she asked next were tinged with desperation and fear, so they startled me, not for their subject matter but for the force of the emotions behind them.

Then she revealed her longing for me, and the conflict in me was unbearable. I wanted her more than anything, yet I was a vampire who thirsted for her blood and the most dangerous threat to her well-being. I told her she couldn't feel that way for me, and I watched in both horror and relief as my harsh words brought tears to her eyes. She was within my power. She loved me as I loved her, already. Saving her twice had only increased my hold over her, and I could imagine how powerfully she would feel indebted to me.

In front of her house, I experimented with my scent. She had found it so enticing when she smelled it from my jacket in the restaurant and in the car. So before Bella left my car, I leaned in and blew my breath in her face and watched as the power of my breath completely confused her. I chuckled as I fully understood the power of my scent on her. I intoxicated her. She had to use the door frame of the car to steady herself. She was _mine_.

That night in her sleep, she murmured my name again and again. I thrilled to hear it, and I caressed her face and her neck as lightly as I could feeling her warmth. I inhaled the scent of her and fantasized all night about being with her intimately.

In the morning, I was there just after her father left for work, waiting in the driveway with my car. She didn't notice right away, but when she did, her heart fluttered, and I fought the smile that struggled to burst across my face. She was as eager for this as I was. I was winning. So I asked as innocently as I could, "Do you want to ride with me today?" I was offering. She could refuse me, but I knew that that she wouldn't. I had her already. She was fascinated by me (the mystery) and beholden to me (her savior). She would refuse me nothing, and she didn't; she got into the car willingly and most importantly believing that it was her decision and not my manipulation that had gotten her into the car. But she was wrong.

My jacket from last night was hung over the back of her seat, and I watched with pleasure as she eagerly pulled it around herself and inhaled my scent as quietly as she could. She seemed tongue tied this morning, and I teased her about it. I tried to explain that it wasn't her questions that bothered me; it was her cool responses. I was a monster after all; as a human, she should find me repulsive. But she didn't. I parked the Volvo next to Rosalie's car, and we got out. Jessica was waiting for her with her jacket (because Bella had left it in her car the night before). The curiosity and excitement on Jessica's face were obvious; in her mind questions and awe were raging; she would bombard Bella in trigonometry. As we watched Jessica walk away, I quietly asked Bella what she was going to tell her. Bella's eyes widened, and she accused me of reading her mind. She begged me to help her, so I told her that Jessica wanted to know if we were dating and that she wanted to know how she felt about me. She feigned a casualness, but I could hear her heart racing at my words. I told her; no (about the mind reading), and I asked her, to say "yes" to the first question. I gave her a choice or what I hoped seemed like a choice, and then I told her I would be listening to her response to the second question in Jessica's mind. She looked stunned, and I smiled to myself as I walked away and called out that I would see her at lunch.

During second period, I focused my attention on Jessica, though several classrooms away, and listened to Bella's responses to her questions. Jessica was disappointed that Bella and I weren't more involved; when she asked Bella about how much she liked me, she registered the fact that Bella's face blushed scarlet. Bella's response troubled me; she told Jessica that she liked me "too much" that she liked me "more" than I liked her. I scoffed at the idea. I waited for Bella after class and walked with her to the cafeteria. She was quiet and self-conscious. She knew I had been listening, and she knew I was annoyed by what I had heard.

I filled a tray with food for us to "share." She objected at first, but then acquiesced. She dared me to eat human food, so I amused her by eating a bite of pizza. I tried to explain that I did want to know what she thought, all of it; it was just that some of the things she thought worried me because they were dangerous for her. I stared into her eyes, and I could see her struggling to breathe normally. She accused me of dazzling her, and I was. I wanted to know if she really thought she liked me more than I like her. She confessed that she did, and I told her she was wrong and listened as her heart raced in response to my words. I asked her why she thought that, and she surprised me by telling that sometimes it seemed like I was trying to say good-bye to her when I was saying something else.

I wasn't good for her, my very being threatened her. The conflict of wanting her and wanting to protect her were always with me, raging inside me, and she was perceptive enough to have noticed. She didn't think much of herself; she thought of herself as ordinary and clumsy and accident prone. I tried to tell her that she was beautiful, but she dismissed my flattery and returned to the subject of my hinted good-byes. I tried to explain again that if I could leave her, it meant I "cared" the most. Then I shifted the conversation. I asked her if she really needed to go to Seattle on Saturday or if we could do something else. I asked her if she would have refused me if I had asked her to the dance. I was confident that she wouldn't have, but she surprised me again. She said that she probably would have said yes, and then cancelled later due to her un-coordination. I tried to tell her it was all in the leading dance partner, and then returned to my earlier question about Seattle. She was willing to do something else, so I invited her to spend the day with me.

Saturday would be sunny, I explained, so I would be keeping way from other people, but she could stay with me, if she wanted to. It was a choice, but not much of one. I knew her curiosity would never allow her to pass up the opportunity to see what I meant about my skin in sunlight. I also knew that she longed to be with me alone, that she hoped I would kiss her, thanks to Jessica's probing questions. I wasn't sure I could kiss her on the mouth without ripping her throat out, but being alone with her in my meadow would be critical for determining how our relationship could or couldn't progress. Would I find the strength that Alice had suggested or would I kill her? I didn't know. She asked to drive because she didn't want to explain the revision of her plans to Charlie, her father. I told her I preferred that her father knew she was out with me—that her father's knowledge of our plans would help me make the right choices about being alone with her. She refused to heed the warning and changed the subject.

She wanted to know about the "hiking" trip Emmett and I had taken and realized with surprise that we had been hunting bears. She struggled to imagine us hunting, and I watched her with amusement as she was not able to suppress shuddering as she re-appraised Emmett across the cafeteria and the idea of his hunting grizzly bears. She asked if she might be able to see me hunt some day. The danger to her in those circumstances flooded my mind and made me intensely angry. She flinched away from me, and I was sorry I had lost control in front of her. I calmed myself and deflected her questions. She made me promise to explain later, and I reluctantly agreed.

Biology was complicated. We were to watch a movie, and I was worried how being in the dark next to her would affect us both. This was vampire stuff. Since many vampires hunted their prey at night, we were most alluring in darkness. A human would find it almost physically impossible not to be drawn to one of us; he or she, the victim, would seek to be near one of us and would want to touch and be touched by one of us. Like a lamb rendered completely helpless before the slaughter of the lion, there was a magnetic eroticism about us in the dark that was irresistible. As soon as the lights switched off, I felt the charge. I wanted to touch her, to hold her, to bite her. The desires were intense, and I crushed my hands in tight fists to my chest and concentrated on resisting the urges I felt. I glanced at her, and I could see the surprise and desire in her face. She wanted to touch and be touched by me too. She had balled up her fists and crushed them to her chest just as I had. As I gazed into her eyes, her breathing accelerated; I grinned at her, and she looked away before she lost control.

When the lights went on again, the charge lessened abruptly, and I couldn't help chuckling at the sense of release the absence of the charge produced. I remarked on it, and she acknowledged the sensations but was still visibly affected. As I walked her to gym, curiosity raged in my head. How would she respond if I did touch her? I was conflicted beyond imagining at the thought. Though I knew it was better for her to slow the advance of our relationship, I couldn't make myself. She had wanted me to touch her in biology, as I had desperately wanted to touch her. So there outside the gym, when she turned to me, I looked into her eyes and brushed my hand softly across her face. Her warmth suffused my hand. Color flushed through her face, and I left her there, recovering from my touch while I felt her fleeting warmth drain from my hand.

She had given me the idea, so I listened to Mike Newton's thoughts in gym that period. She hit herself in the head with her own racket! Mike voiced his disapproval of our relationship, and rage flooded my mind. Newton was annoying. She was furious when she realized that I had listened to her in gym, but I got her to forgive me. I flashed my eyes at her and agreed to let her drive on Saturday and had the pleasure of listening as her heart raced in response. I drove her home, and she asked about her and me and hunting again. I tried to explain that when I hunted I relied more on my senses and less on my rational mind; in that state, stopping myself from hunting her, killing her, would be very difficult, and that I would never put her in that kind of danger. And then I looked at her and she stared back into my eyes; as our eyes held, the electric charge from early that day returned, and I could hear her breathing become erratic. It was better if she went inside, and I told her to go. I also warned her that the next day, it would be my turn to ask the questions. I wanted to know everything about her and her life. If I couldn't read her mind, at least I could know the tiny details of her life that would help me predict her behavior and bind her to me.

That night, she turned restlessly in her bed. She murmured my name again and again, and I became so intensely aroused that it was not enough to kiss her hair or gently stroke her face—taking her soft skin and her warmth, her intoxicating warmth. Her blankets rested at her waist, and I could see her breasts through her thin t-shirt. I knew it was wrong, but I lightly touched her breasts, and she moaned in her sleep. I felt her nipples harden in response to my cool touch, and I drew back to stop myself from touching her further and felt with vague sorrow her warmth leaving me. She repeated my name, and I couldn't bear it. My penis was hard and throbbing, and the need to feel release was overpowering. I masturbated, watching her sleep and imagined her touching me and us having sex. The sense of release from the orgasm was amazing. I wanted her so badly. Slowly, I told myself; "Go slowly with this girl, make her want you beyond reason, make her want you as badly as you want her. Make her ache for you." I would, I vowed.

The next morning, I was there to pick her up just after her father left. She was delighted to see me, and I suppressed my smile. Her restless night left her looking a little tired, and we joked about how little sleep each of us had gotten. Then, I began with my questions. I wanted to know everything. Every insignificant detail of her life: music, books, people, travel, everything. Sometimes her answers caused her to blush, and I would refocus my attention to understand the reasons behind the blushes. She resisted sometimes, but when I flashed by eyes at her and pleaded with her in my gentle voice, she always gave in and told me what I wanted to know.

Biology was tortuous again as the film continued. I tried to sit further from her, but it didn't help. The charge between us in the dark was intense—almost more intense than the previous day. I felt how she strained against the urges to touch me and be held by me in the dark. She was so overwhelmed by her desires that she refused to even look at me. After class, I walked her to gym, and as before, I touched her face with my hand. The warmth of her skin was wonderful.

After gym, I was pleased to see how her face lit up when she saw me waiting for her. I continued my questions on the way home and in the car in front of her house. As it was growing dark, I told her why "twilight" was such a bitter-sweet part of the day for us. When I knew that Charlie was nearly home, I asked her if she wanted him to know she would be with me on Saturday, but she refused. I told her I was not done with my questions yet. It gave me great satisfaction to listen to her heart race as I reached across her to open her door for her. And then I could hear them, Billy Black and his son, Jacob, Quileutes, "a complication." Their car pulled up. Billy Black was furious, but his son was oblivious. Billy knew what I was, and he wanted to protect Bella. Though I knew that, though I could read his intensions in his head, I hated him. I hated him for wanting to keep me from Bella. Bella got out of the car and went to greet them while I drove away suppressing my anger. I seethed with anger all the way home.

Emmett was tinkering with his Jeep when I pulled into the garage. I was still so angry. He looked at my face as I got out of the car and shook his head.

"You look like you want to break something, little brother," he said.

"That's putting it mildly," I answered back tensely.

"Then let's go! Do you want to hunt or bust up cliff face or pitch boulders? I am up for anything."

"Pounding cliff face doesn't sound too bad," I answered. Emmett was such a good brother. We ran past the house and jumped over the river. Beating against the stone did actually relieve some of my anger. I told Emmett about the Blacks at Bella's house. I had already told him and the others about how Bella had figured out what we were from the Quileute legends that Jacob Black had told her. He wasn't concerned about the Blacks or the Quileutes. He found my jealousy amusing. My anger flared, and he laughed.

"It's just good to see you out of control, Edward," he said earnestly. "I so rarely get to see you this way. I like this girl, Bella Swan. I'll work on Rose. Some how it will work out." He punched my shoulder and smiled at me.

We went back to the house, and I occupied myself until it was safe to assume Bella was asleep. Though my anger had abated, it flashed as I neared Bella's house and could smell the scents of the two Blacks.

Standing over Bella's sleeping form, inhaling her scent, kissing and stroking her hair and feeling her warmth, calmed me and helped me drive the image of Billy Black's angry face from my mind. I realized that I was insanely jealous of anyone who threatened my time with Bella, whether it was Billy Black or Mike Newton. It didn't matter; I knew I would be willing to kill for her. I had already been willing to kill for her in Port Angeles, but those had been strangers trying to do her violence, and these were just people I knew who were trying to protect her or vying for her romantic affections. As the jealousy calmed, I began to fantasize about her and me as I usually did. The fantasies were very good; I imagined her writhing in pleasure as we came together and couldn't resist the urge to touch her when she called out my name in her sleep.

In the morning, I waited for her as usual. Impossible as it seemed, she was more eager than yesterday to join me in the car. I smiled widely as I listened to her shortness of breath and her racing heart as she got into the car. She asked about my night, and I couldn't deny how pleasurable it had been. She seemed confused, but I diverted her by continuing my questions. I was surprised and pleased that she had never dated anyone. I knew jealousy was behind my pleasure; I didn't want to think about anyone else having touched her or kissed her. I wanted her to belong to me and only _me_.

In the cafeteria, I told her that I would be leaving after lunch with Alice. I watched the disappointment flicker over her face as she realized that she would lose time with me. I assured her that her truck would be waiting for her at the end of school; Alice and I would get it and leave it for her. She protested that she didn't have the key, but I dismissed her concerns and assured her the truck would be waiting for her.

She asked where I was going, and I told her I was hunting with Alice—trying to satisfy any thirst I had before I spent the next day, Saturday, alone with her. I reminded her that she could cancel on me, but she assured me that she couldn't, and I knew she couldn't either. It annoyed me that she had refused to tell her father she would be alone with me. I wanted someone to know; it would help me to know that someone else knew when I was fighting the urge to kill her. She asked about what my family thought, and I tried to explain that they didn't understand my longing for her. "You fascinate me," I told her; I attempted to explain further, but she glanced at my family, and Rosalie reacted by glaring at her. I was furious and hissed at Rosalie. I tried to explain that Rosalie was concerned, that all my family members were concerned. Saturday alone with her constitute a risk not only to her, Bella, but to all of us. If I couldn't find the control to be with her alone, if I killed her, I threatened to expose us all as vampires.

Alice approached us, and I introduced them. I told Alice I would meet her at the car. Bella hoped I would have fun on the trip, and though she tried to sound cheerful, I knew that she was sad to be without me. I stroked her face gently to feel her warmth before parting. Then, I turned to follow Alice. We got Bella's truck, and I left her a note, "Be safe," so that she would know I was thinking of her.

Hunting with Alice was good. She encouraged me. She reviewed her original vision of Bella in my life, in our lives. And she reviewed her more recent vision of Bella being safe and alive after spending the day with me on Saturday. Rosalie was so resistant to Bella, but Alice assured me that everyone else was not. She encouraged me to feel the depth of their sincerity, and I knew she was right. I had been alone so long; they wanted me to be happy, and if my happiness was entwined with this girl, they would find a way to accept her. They all recognized that the hardest part of this impossible relationship was between Bella and me—my resisting the urge to kill her and her choosing to be with a vampire. "You will find the strength, Edward; I have seen it," Alice repeated throughout the afternoon as I fretted over the possibilities for the next day.

The next morning, I found amusement in Bella's choice of clothing: we matched. I begrudgingly got into the passenger seat, and she drove the ancient truck slowly, taking the directions I gave her. I was furious when I realized that no one knew she was alone with me, not her father, not Jessica. I questioned her sanity.

She pulled to the shoulder of the road, near the start of the trail. She looked worried and alarmed when I walked into the forest, bypassing the trail and making my own way. I assured her we wouldn't get lost, but her expression looked pained. I worried that she was afraid. I offered to take her home, but she refused. Her obvious pain over something she was not sharing with me hurt me too. I felt surprisingly vulnerable. I helped her over obstacles in our path as I navigated our way to my meadow. When I touched her, not only could I feel her warmth, but I could hear her heart accelerate, and I couldn't reconcile that reaction with the pain that flickered across her face. And then we were there. She walked eagerly into the beautiful meadow while I hesitated at the edge. How would she react to me? Would I scare her? Would she finally see me as a monster and run away from me? My anxiety was intense.

I walked slowly into the sunlight, and I watched as her eyes flew open wide watching the way the sun sparkled off my skin like hundreds of prisms dancing in the sun-light. She gasped and murmured that I was beautiful. I lay down on the grass and flowers with the sun shining on my face and neck and arms, and she sat next to me, staring at me. I asked her if I scared her, and she answered, "No more than usual." It made me laugh. She touched my arm, hesitantly. Her human warmth pulsed across my cold skin and into the flesh itself radiating out—warming me. It was highly pleasant and slightly erotic. The warmth of her touch was fantastic. She asked my permission to touch me, and I tried to tell her how good it felt. She stroked my arm and hand, and she held my hand between hers, and her warmth penetrated my entire hand.

I asked her what she was thinking, explaining that it was so frustrating for me not to know. She confessed to feeling afraid; I told her I didn't want her to be afraid. She amended her statement, and it made me intensely curious. I sat up quickly. Our faces were so close, and she startled me by moving even closer, inhaling my breath. Her scent was so close, and the urge to taste her scent and blood was so strong I nearly forgot myself. I was suddenly terrified that I would kill her at that moment. I forced myself away from her. Of course, she didn't realize what was happening. One moment, she was holding my hand and leaning her face toward me, and the next, I was at the edge of the meadow, staring at her, trying to control my breathing and my desire for her blood. She apologized to me. I steadied myself and returned to her, apologizing for my sudden actions. As she realized that I had nearly lost control, I smelled the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and I smiled. She needed to see the worst; she needed to fully understand what I was capable of. Her choice to be with me needed to be informed. I was pretty certain that she would still choose me even if I frightened her. I had frightened her already, and yet there she sat completely alone with me.

I acknowledged my vampire gifts, my voice, my face, my smell, and then I demonstrated to her how fast I was and how strong I was. She sat wide-eyed, staring at me. I could read the terror in her eyes, but she refused to look away, and though I clearly frightened her, I did not revolt her. I begged her not to be afraid; I swore not to hurt her; I asked for her forgiveness again, and I rejoined her, sitting across from her and placing my hand back in hers. I assured her that I wasn't thirsty, and she laughed weakly. She caressed my hand and smiled slightly at me; the warmth and the smile were both lovely. I smiled back and attempted to continue our previous conversation about why she was afraid. She hesitated, and I tried to explain how uncomfortable it made me when she withheld her thoughts from me. She was afraid of wanting to be with me; she was embarrassed to confess this to me. I agreed that her desire to be with me was not a safe desire for her. I confessed that for her safety, I had considered leaving Forks. She protested that she didn't want me to go, and I told her that I wanted her too much to leave. She was glad; she didn't understand at all.

I tried to explain. It wasn't just that I was a vampire and she was a human, and I was resisting the temptation of feeding on her; she didn't smell like Jessica or Angela. Ordinary humans didn't tempt me; I resisted the temptation of the human blood easily, but Bella's blood, her scent, was different; it nearly sent me into a frenzy. I tried to use metaphors about fine brandy and heroin; she was my own "personal brand" of heroin. I tried to explain that the way she smelled to me was rare; it didn't happen to many of us, and it had never happened to me before. She misunderstood and thought that I meant there was no hope for us. I countered, quickly assuring her there was hope, that I wouldn't hurt her. I confessed to the power of her blood that first day I met her, in the biology classroom where I struggled through the entire class with my desires and then again in the office. I explained why I had appeared so angry, why I had disappeared from school, and why I had come back. I told her about the extra measures I took so that I could be around her, and the agony I felt when she was nearly killed by Tyler's van, and problems I had with my family for saving her and threatening us. I explained why I tried to stay away from her after that. I told her that I could not bear the idea of her dead and lifeless, the idea of her never blushing again or seeing through my lies. I could see that my confession about how much she meant to me and how completely I was bound to her left her staggered. I stared down into her face, and she confessed to being unable to stay away from me.

She called herself an idiot, and I agreed with her, and then I said gently, "And so the lion fell in love with lamb," and though she hid her eyes from me, I heard her heart race in response to my words. She asked me why I ran from her before when she had moved so close. I tried to explain; it was more the suddenness of her closeness to me that surprised me. I took my free hand and placed it on the side of her neck. I hoped to show her I was in control. I felt her pulse increase at my touch, and her face flushed with pleasure. I commented on how much I enjoyed her blushes, and then I moved my hands to either side of her face and held her there. I asked her to be very still for a moment, and I moved my face so that my cheek rested at the base of her throat while my hands held her face. Her heart beat was hypnotic, and I slid my hands from her face down her neck to her shoulders and my cheek from her throat to her chest, listening to her heart beat as it raced in reaction to my touch. Her warmth spread through me.

I didn't want to move, and she held very still. Her heart beat slowed, and I pulled away. Being so close to her and inhaling her scent so intimately had been difficult, but it made it easier to be around her; I was more "desensitized" to her scent. The warmth of her chest had pervaded my cheek, and I let her feel it. She asked me not to move, and I held still, aching for the caresses she seemed determined to give me. Her fingers traced all the features of my face, and I thrilled to her warm, gentle touch. When she pulled away, I looked at her with intense longing, and her blood raced in her veins as she acknowledged my longing and responded with longing of her own. I tried to explain the conflicting emotions that I felt, but I wasn't sure how to articulate them. I spoke of hungers, desires, and she seemed to understand what I meant.

I confessed that I wasn't sure if I knew how to be close to her, but she assured me that I was better at it than I thought. She rested her head against my chest, and I encircled her in my arms and kissed her hair; the warmth of her body against mine was wonderful. I was unwilling to move again, and then she sighed; it was beginning to get dark, and I realized that I needed to take her home. I had revealed so much of myself to her, and she seemed okay with it all. I wondered if she would let me carry her through the forest. I asked her. She thought I was joking at first. I pulled her onto my back, and we were off. I felt her pulse pounding and smelled the adrenaline pouring through her system. I hoped that she was finding it exciting and not terrifying, but I was wrong. She felt sick by the time we reached her truck and needed to sit and collect herself.

As we ran, I thought about how well I had done with her alone, about how through familiarity, her scent didn't overpower me, how I wanted to be more intimate with her, and how I knew that she wanted me to be more intimate with her. I thought I was ready. We could try. I would try to kiss her. I had touched her, and I had fantasized about this, kissing her; I thought I was ready. Sitting next to her, I took her face in my hands and told her I wanted to try something. She stopped breathing, and I bent my face to hers and pressed my lips to hers. Her reaction shocked me. She wrapped herself around me and kissed me back with a force that threatened all my control. She pulled me closer. She kissed me greedily and her breathing became erratic as she pressed against me. Her warmth flooded through me from all the points of contact I had with her. More than anything else I had experienced. My cheek, my lips, my tongue, where her arms were wrapped around my back, shoulders, neck, my scalp as her fingers wound into my hair, my chest as her body pressed against me—warmth; it was unbelievable. I wanted more. I suddenly wanted to feel her naked body against my naked body. I wanted to feel how much more of her warmth would flood through me if we were like that. I was shocked at the violence of these sudden urges, and I forced my hands to restrain her, as I fought back my wild urge to continue our kissing and to go beyond that to sex and beyond that to drinking her blood. She suddenly realized my discomfort and tried to move away from me, but I wouldn't let her move. I held her tightly until I regained control. I could control myself—even in this difficult situation.

I was pleased, and I told her so. I held out my hand for her and helped her to her feet. I laughed; I was suddenly light-hearted. I hadn't killed her, I had kissed her and resisted her assault on my control, and most of all, I knew she thrilled to my touch and my kiss. She was mine just as I had hoped. Beyond reason, she loved me, as I loved her. I told her I should drive us home. She protested, but I won, as I knew I would. I kissed her to confirm my power over her, kissing her along her throat multiple times and feeling her heart race, the color flood to her face in reaction, and her warmth on my face. She was helpless under the power of my affection, and the power made me feel high.

I drove her home, and she asked me about me and my family. I told her about myself and Carlisle's changing me although I withheld the specifics of the conversion process. I told her about how Carlisle had brought Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett into our family, and then how Alice and Jasper had joined us. I told her about the gifts we each seemed to bring with us from our human selves, but I refused to tell her about Alice's vision of her as part of our family. I wasn't ready for that. As much as I loved her, I couldn't condemn her to eternal damnation, and that is all I saw for us, for vampires.

In the driveway outside her house, I realized she was hungry; I felt badly that I hadn't considered her hunger all day. She didn't want to leave me, and it was wonderful to hear her say it. I asked to come in. The request surprised her, but she allowed me to accompany her. I flew to unlock and open the door for her. Since I watched her often at night and in the early morning, I knew where the spare key was hidden. She was surprised again, and she asked me if I spied on her. I admitted it and had the satisfaction of realizing that the fact did not alarm her or scare her; it seemed to please her. As she heated up some dinner, she asked me how often I came there, and I told her. I told her I liked to watch and listen to her sleep. I didn't tell her what else I did while I watched and listened. I wasn't sure how she would react to what I had admitted; she should have been angry; most people would find it creepy, but she was more embarrassed than anything. She knew she talked in her sleep, and she knew she dreamed about me. She was embarrassed that I had heard her talking about me in her sleep. She didn't realize it was exactly her talking about me in her sleep that brought me closer to her, that made me abandon my efforts to stay away from her. I tried to soothe her embarrassment by taking her into my arms, and though I meant to be comforting her, I felt oddly at ease as her warmth washed through me. Then her father approached. She didn't know what to tell Charlie about me, so I left her there in the kitchen. She called out after me, and I laughed softly at the longing in her voice.

I didn't leave. I waited for her in her room on her bed. I hoped that this was what she wanted. It was hard not to pay attention to their conversation below me, but I wish I hadn't. Charlie mentioned Mike Newton, and my mind filled with rage. The obvious excitement in Bella's voice as she excused herself from the table and tried to feign tiredness distracted me from my jealousy. When she opened the door, she didn't see me and ran to her window. She threw it open and whispered my name into the darkness. Seeing her excitement and eagerness to be with me again made me euphoric. I laughed from her bed and watched her spin around in surprise. Her heart raced in excitement, and she sat down on the floor of her room to recover from her sudden surprise. I picked her up, gently and carefully, and sat her on the bed with me, and we laughed together as we listened to her heart beat return to normal.

She asked my permission, _my permission_, to excuse herself to get ready for bed and to make a show to Charlie that she was actually going to bed and not sneaking out. Of course, I granted my permission to her, and she ordered me to stay, an order with which I was only too eager to comply. When she returned, she sat on the bed with me. I pressed my check to her throat and breathed in her scent. Her warmth spread through me as I held her close. She noticed that being so close to her now, after all day with her, seemed easier and asked me about that. I tried to explain that it was not easier, but that my success this afternoon alone with her had convinced me that I could do it, that I was strong enough, that I couldn't hurt her; "mind over matter," I told her. I had worried that I couldn't be close to her, but she responded to my touch and my kisses the way I had fantasized about; she wanted more; she told me I was driving her mad. I told her how it pleased me to be good at being with her. She said that I was good at everything; she adored me, worshipped me, and that was just what I wanted.

I tried to explain that being away from her would mean that I would have to work on being close to her scent again; I was so "desensitized" to it at the moment but it would different the next day, and then she begged me to stay. I smiled at her and told her I was only too willing to be her "prisoner," but I imprisoned her wrists in my hands as I spoke and laughed. She noticed how light-hearted I seemed and remarked on it. "Isn't first love supposed to be like this?" I asked coyly. I tried to explain the shock of feeling the emotions first-hand rather than reading about them or watching them; she agreed that the experience was more profound. I remembered the jealousy that I felt when Charlie had questioned her about Mike Newton, and I tried to explain it to her. I told her about the first night I came here and her saying my name and how it made me feel. She tried to counter by mentioning Rosalie who Carlisle had hoped might be a companion for me but who was never more than my sister, and I scoffed at her. "For ninety years, I have been waiting for you," I told her. She suggested that it wasn't fair that she didn't have to wait for me, that she had it "easy," but I reminded her that she was a human putting herself in danger every moment by being with me. She tried to tell me that she didn't mind the sacrifice, but I didn't believe it. Charlie was coming to check on her, so I disappeared and told her to lie down.

She did a terrible job of faking being asleep, and I told her so after her father had left. I began humming the lullaby I had created for her. She wasn't ready for sleep, not with me there beside her. I inhaled her scent and tried to describe it to her, floral and delicious, and the heat of her body permeated mine. She decided to ask me more questions, about why we eat animals instead of humans like most of our kind, about our abilities, and where vampires come from. I encouraged her to sleep, but she had more questions. She worried that I would disappear, and I assured her that I would not. Her last questions made her uncomfortable, and she blushed easily. She asked about marriage for vampires since I had mentioned that Rosalie and Emmett sometimes lived as a married couple. And then she asked about that possibility for us, for her and me. Marriage! She would consider marrying me; my hold on her was stronger than I thought; I was elated.

Of course, marriage between a human and a vampire would be impossible, but then I wondered again about Alice's vision where Bella was clearly immortal and clearly part of my life. I didn't know how to explain it. I tried to tell her how dangerous it would be for her for us to be so close so much of the time. I could, I should, only be close to her when I was in control, and I wasn't sure that I could be in control all the time if we lived together. I asked her if she was scared, and she said no. Marriage meant more than simply living together, and the images I had created of Bella and me making love flooded my mind. "Have you ever …?" I asked hesitantly. "No," she responded blushing in the darkness. I told her that we shared that status in common, and she asked if I found her attractive "that way," sexually attractive she meant. Of course, I did; she had no idea just how sexually attractive I found her, but this first night that she knew I was I with her, I would be good, I would be cautious. Better to have her sexual desire for me overpowering than for me to scare her off with my own sexual desire for her. I assured her that I found her attractive and insisted on her getting some sleep, and I began humming her lullaby to her again.

She drifted off to sleep in my arms, and I inhaled her scent and kissed her very gently, her hair and the back of her neck. Very gently, so as not to wake her or disturb her, I caressed her shoulder and the arm left exposed by her blankets. She must have been tired from the long day together and all the information I had given her because she shifted very little in her sleep. She murmured by name, and it felt like I couldn't contain the joy I felt, and then she whispered, "Edward, I love you," and I felt—I didn't even know how to describe how I felt; I felt triumphant; she was mine; she had to be mine. I wanted her, all to myself, completely.

Later, I gently extricated myself from her sleeping body and went home. Away from her, my body returned to its normal temperature, and I felt a sense of grief at the loss of her warmth. I realized I craved her warmth every bit as did her blood; I wanted it; I needed it, and I wasn't sure what to make of this desire. Alice was waiting for me, her eyes bright with excitement. Emmett and Jasper were there too. Jasper more curious, and Emmett happy to see me happy. Alice wanted all the details and was thrilled that it had gone so well. Jasper looked stunned when he realized that I had kissed her and become so comfortable around her that I could bear to kiss her throat. Emmett laughed; he had always been supremely confident that my enhanced vampire abilities would be no match for the willpower of a human girl, and I was ecstatic to find myself in the position of being nearly as confident as he was; Bella loved me after less than a week's worth of conversations and two dates (if dinner in Port Angeles counted as a date).

Carlisle and Esme were also happy for me and happy that this initial experimentation had been so successful. Rosalie kept to herself; she knew that she was being petulant but was unable to help herself. The question now became what would we do next? What did Bella and I do? If we were going to date publicly, it would mean me getting to know Charlie but also Bella getting to know my family. I had no problem with Charlie; I knew I posed no threat to him. My family, on the other hand, was different. Most of us were practiced enough that Bella wouldn't be in physical danger around us. Jasper was the least practiced, and he agreed to maintain a distance from Bella. Rosalie won't be tempted by Bella—just sullen and unwelcoming. Alice assured us that Bella visiting would be fine, so it was agreed that I would ask Bella over to meet my them. I changed my clothes, returned to Bella's room, and waited sitting in her rocking chair for her to wake up.

She murmured in her sleep and rolled over. I thought she might go back to sleep, but then her heart beat accelerated and her head flew up as she looked around the room. Her wide eyes met mine, and I had to smile at the radiant smile that spread across her face. She called my name and bounded into my lap. Her reaction was better than I could have imagined, and I felt her warmth course through me with pleasure. I was thrilled that she was so happy I had stayed the night. She asked about Charlie, and then excused herself to the bathroom while I waited. When she returned to my lap, I listened to her heart race and the return of her seductive warmth, before she noticed that my clothes were changed. I assured her that I didn't miss anything when I left, and she asked me what she had said in her sleep. I told her that she had said that she loved me and that I found it nice to hear; she whispered it again, and I told her, "You are my life now."

Remembering that she would be hungry after the long night, I suggested breakfast. She made a poor joke of looking like I was suggesting biting her for breakfast, but that wasn't the kind of appetite that I wanted to sate most when I looked at Bella now. I picked her up and gently threw her over my shoulder. She protested, but I ignored her. I sat her in one of the kitchen chairs, and she asked me what was for breakfast. That threw me; I had no idea what to do with human food. She joked about her hunting abilities and got a bowl of cereal.

She asked about our plans for the day, and I watched her carefully as I suggested that I take her to my house to meet my family. She looked shocked. I asked if she was scared, and she said that she was. What surprised me was that she wasn't afraid of them as vampires, she was afraid that they wouldn't like her. She wanted to know if they knew about her, and I explained that we didn't have secrets in my family—my mind reading and Alice's seeing the future made it futile. She asked if Alice had seen her coming, and I struggled to hide my expression as quickly as I could. Yes, Alice had seen her coming, but I didn't want Bella to know that Alice had seen her as an immortal, as one of us. I changed the subject, and then suggested that she introduce me to Charlie as her boyfriend. She hesitated. I thought I understood why. Though my family knew about us and our classmates at school saw us together, Charlie had no idea that his daughter was involved with any boy. Bella had pointedly told her father that she wasn't interested in any boy in town only the night before. Charlie didn't have any lead time to get used to the idea and hadn't seen any indication of a relationship beginning.

It left me staggered to realize that she wasn't even sure of it herself. The day before we had declared ourselves to each other, and she had confessed that she loved me both unconsciously and consciously, and she was afraid to the make the presumption that I was her boyfriend; she told me I didn't need to pretend. Her insecurity was delightfully pleasurable. She didn't understand; now that I was sure I could be around her so intimately, I wanted to be around her as much as possible. She seemed genuinely surprised when I suggested that I would be spending my time with her, now, more than just at school and that included here at her house. "Will you be?" she asked; the anxiety in her voice was reassuring to me. I told her I would be here as long as she wanted me, and she told me she would want me "forever." I hid my emotions from her; I was both pained and overjoyed.

I asked if she was finished her breakfast and told her I would wait while she got dressed. I was pleased to see how overly eager she was to return to me. I pulled her into my arms to feel her warmth against me and tried to explain how tempting she was to me. Her breathing became more erratic, and she inhaled my scent greedily as I bent down to kiss her. I had prepared myself in case she responded the way she had done yesterday, but this time, she fainted in my arms; she had forgotten to breathe. I worried that she was in no condition to go out, but she insisted she was fine, just intimidated about meeting my family. I complimented her by telling her that the color of her shirt looked beautiful against her skin and watched her blush at my words and attention. It made me chuckle to think she was more worried about what my family members would think of her than the fact that she would be surrounded by vampires.

I was curious about what she would think of the house and my family. She was quiet on the way to my house, absorbed in her own thoughts. She was nervous and self-conscious as we walked toward the house. I tried to assure her by complimenting her again and taking her hand in mine. I opened the door and held it for her. Carlisle and Esme were waiting for us, and Alice and Jasper joined them shortly afterward. It went well, to my intense relief. Bella had shaken off her insecurity and was genuinely glad to meet my father and mother. Alice had surprised us all with her familiarity toward Bella, but Jasper had eased the situation, and Bella felt comfortable with them and in the house. Bella and Esme ganged up on me and had me play the piano for Bella. I played Esme's favorite and the lullaby I had written for Bella. She told me she felt insignificant in comparison to me, and it made me hope that she would deny me nothing, even herself. My family left us alone, and Bella asked about Rosalie and her absence. I tried to explain that Rosalie was jealous, that she wanted to be human like Bella was.

Everyone else was happy for me. When Bella commented on Alice's enthusiastic greeting, I stiffened. She noticed, and I knew that she knew I was keeping something about Alice from her. Then she asked about what Carlisle had been trying to tell me when we first arrived. I explained that Alice had seen other vampires in the area; vampires who would know we were here and might be curious about us and the way we lived. Since they drank human blood, I would be being rather overprotective of her. She did seem to understand the danger.

After I finished playing her lullaby, I asked her if she wanted to see the rest of the house. As we walked, I told her parts of Carlisle's story and then my own. I waited for something I said to be too much for her; she saw it on my face and asked me about my concern. When I told her, she assured me she wasn't going anywhere. I wanted to protect her, and I wanted to be with her. I didn't know how to do both.

I showed her my room. As she looked through my music, I realized that it pleased me that I could tell her so much about me and my family and the way we lived. Again, she saw it on my face and asked about it; she also guessed that I was waiting for her to be scared of us, and she lied, saying that she didn't find me terrifying at all. Up for the challenge, I pounced on her, protecting her in the circle of my arms, but sailing across the room on to the couch. My attack left her breathless, and she admitted that I was scary. While she was locked in my arms, Alice and Jasper came to the door. A thunderstorm was approaching that evening, and Alice and Jasper were attempting to organize a baseball game. Alice said that Bella could come, and she agreed to come.

I took Bella home, so that she could eat and prepare Charlie to meet me. As we neared her house, I could sense Billy and Jacob Black as they waited for Bella or Charlie on the porch. Billy Black was prepared to tell Charlie about us; how Charlie would take Quileute superstition about real vampires, I didn't know, but I was furious. Bella noticed. She realized what was happening immediately when she saw them waiting. She asked to handle it, and I agreed. I did not want a confrontation with Billy Black. I also couldn't help goading Billy, so I smiled at Bella and leaned over to kiss her throat. I suppressed a smile of satisfaction as I heard the revulsion and indignation in Billy Black's thoughts as he watched me, a Cullen, a vampire, kissing Bella, his friend's daughter, on her throat. I promised Bella I would return soon, and I watched her run to the porch and take them into the house.

About an hour later, I returned to Bella's house to meet her father and pick her up for the game. Charlie was fine; he laughed at the idea of Bella watching the game and then made me promise to take care of his daughter. I promised easily. I had Emmett's jeep because I guessed Bella would want to limit her time running with me in the forest after our last experience. I was right. She blanched at the idea of running with me again. I told her to keep her eyes closed. She continued to hesitate; she didn't want to do it again. We drove as far as we could, and then I helped her out of the jeep. I complimented her bravery this morning with my family, but she still didn't want to run with me.

I knew that I had power over her, but now I decided to test just how strong that power was. I told her that I would "tamper with her memory" but what I really meant was that I would tamper with her will. I placed my arms on either side of her, pinning her to the jeep. I breathed into her face and began asking what she was worried about. Between my eyes and my breath, she was woozy. I tried not to smile as I kissed the base of her throat and moved my lips up her throat to her chin and then up her jaw line down her cheek and then to her lips. Her heart sputtered erratically, and her breathing became shallow. Her protests became less coherent as I kissed her until she surrendered to my will absolutely. I took her face in my hands and prepared to kiss her. I hoped she wouldn't faint again, but she reacted like she had the first time. She threw herself into the kiss with such passion that I had to break it off. Her alluring warmth had flooded through me again, igniting all the passions I had for her—sexually as well as thirst-wsie. My control was badly shaken, and I struggled to recover. We both struggled to recover from the shocking passion we both felt.

It surprised me that my sexual passion for Bella was so closely tied to my violent passion for her blood; loss of control sexually seemed to constitute a complete lack of control including my ability to restrain from the temptation of her blood. With her unconscious, I could satisfy my sexual desires for her from a distance, but with her conscious and active participation, my desires spiraled out of control—sexual desire spreading to all my desires for her. Her desire and reactions were beyond my control, and those coupled with my barely contained desires completely overwhelmed me. I felt vulnerable. Bella unhinged everything I knew about myself.

I took her in my arms and threw her gently into place on my back. Again her warmth flooded through me, but it was safer, more easily managed without her kisses and her wild desire. I reminded her to close her eyes, and we were off. When we arrived, I told her. I had forgotten that I helped her off my back the last time, so I was as unprepared for her dismount as was she. She fell to the ground, and it surprised me so much that I laughed at her. I instantly regretted it. She was furious and stomped away from me. I pulled her back easily, but she kept trying to get away from me. Finally, I held her tightly in my arms. I tried to explain to her that I wasn't mad at her; I was mad at myself. I put her in danger from me, from my longing for her blood and my tenuous control of my desires. I told her that I should be strong enough to leave her, but she pleaded with me. She wanted me and didn't want me to go—even though I threatened her life. I told her that I loved her, and listened to her heart race at my words. I told her to be still, and I kissed her again. She held properly still this time. In those moments, her warmth was pleasurable but not overwhelming. It wasn't as wonderful as the passion-filled, reckless kisses, but it was good, and it was safe.

I walked Bella over to Esme and ran to take my position in the outfield. I threw myself into the game; it was fun to really let go. We were all enjoying ourselves. Bella watched us wide-eyed. I flashed over to her and asked her what she thought of the game. She said she would never watch regular baseball the same way again and voiced her irritation that I could do everything so much better than other people. I smiled at her and listened to her breathing change under the force of my eyes and then returned to the game. Alice gasped, and I looked at her. The images in her head revealed that the other vampires had heard us; they were coming. I was horrified. Bella was here. I had exposed her to danger. It was too late to get her out of here. We would have to meet them and hope to keep the situation peaceful. Carlisle agreed; we would let them come and hope to hide Bella or at least defend her from them; there were seven of us and only three of them. We nearly managed to pass off Bella as one of us, until the wind shifted, and James caught Bella's scent and crouched into a hunting stance. I mirrored his actions and growled at him fiercely. Laurent reacted with surprise, and Carlisle explained that Bella was with us. Laurent was stunned but wanted to avoid a confrontation, so he placated us and urged James and Victoria to withdrawal with him. They seemed to comply, but I could hear James' thoughts. Laurent wasn't really the leader, James was; it was James' coven. He wanted Bella, and he would not be thwarted. James thought of himself as a tracker, and my family protecting Bella presented the most extraordinary challenge to him.

As they withdrew, Alice and Emmett helped me defend Bella and get her back to the jeep. I just started to drive. Bella didn't understand at first. When she realized the danger and that I was intending to take her as far away from Forks as possible, she began to protest. She didn't want to endanger my family, whether from the FBI or from the other vampires. She came up with a plan: to stage her departure from Forks so Charlie would understand that she left of her own power and not involve law enforcement. It would also to protect Charlie from James who would begin his hunt where Bella's scent was strongest, her house; further by naming Phoenix as her destination, she hoped to mask it as her actual destination since James would assume Phoenix was a lie. Lastly, we were to separate; Alice and Jasper would take Bella to Phoenix, and the rest of us would watch Charlie and hunt James. I didn't like it; I hated the idea of being separated from Bella, especially when she was in danger, when I had put her in danger. But Emmett was right, if Bella were near me while I hunted James, I would be distracted. I would care more about protecting her than focusing on James. And I wanted James. I wanted to rip him to pieces myself for thinking of threatening Bella, of wanting her. The rage I felt toward James, made the pain of separating from Bella almost possible.

Bella did well at her father's. Charlie was wounded by Bella's harsh words, but he let her go. I took over the driving as soon as her truck was out of sight of the house—forcing Bella into the middle of wide bench seat. Alice and Emmett joined us. I tried to explain to Bella that the only danger was to her, not to us. We met the others at home. Laurent was there; he had come to warn us about James. I had Esme change clothes with Bella, so we could leave a false trail for James. Then, everyone was ready, and it was time to go. I didn't know if I could bear it, to let her go. There in the garage, in front of my family, I pressed Bella to my body and kissed her hard on the mouth and turned away. That kiss, the memory of her warmth, and her scent which lingered in my nostrils would have to sustain me through the separation.

Emmett, Carlisle, and I hunted James. He figured out that I could read him and was careful to keep just far enough away so that I couldn't. He was tricky; he got Victoria to scout around the town too, and then we lost him. Alice said that his vision had changed, and the change would take him to a room of mirrors. I talked to Bella on the phone. The relief in hearing her voice was immense. I tried to reassure her. I told her I would make her safe and that I loved her. We flew back to Forks; we thought James had returned to Forks, but he wasn't in Forks. It was time to regroup. We would meet Bella and Alice and Jasper in Phoenix, and then Emmett, Carlisle, and I would hide Bella. I felt like I couldn't get to Phoenix fast enough. I ached to see her again, to hold her in my arms. My anxiety was so great that Emmett and Carlisle finally stopped trying to calm me down and just let me stew.

When we got off the plane, Alice and Jasper met us with guilt and horror mingled in their expressions. I read the images in Alice's mind before she could choke out her apologies. Alice had a vision of Bella dead in the room of mirrors. Bella had gotten a phone call from what appeared to be her mom. Bella had given Jasper the slip; she had left a note for me which indicated that James had Bella's mom and that she had gone to meet him. Alice knew where the room of mirrors was. My horror and rage were nearly overwhelming; I flew into action. I had to get there in time; she could not die. We stole a car and raced to Cactus Street.

I tried not to imagine what James would do to her, to my Bella. He was doing this to get to me. He wanted my vengeance. It was grotesque. He couldn't just come straight at me. He had to hurt her to make me wild with wrath and hatred, and I would be if he hurt her. Of course he was going to hurt her, that was part of the game for him. Would he dare to do more? I couldn't even imagine him touching her. I felt blinded by my rage.

I tried not to think about her dead. What would I do if we were too late? How could I go on without her? She had become my life, my whole reason for being. I couldn't go on; I wouldn't go on, not without her. But how to die—none of my family would help me. The Volturi could. But I had to find her alive. Bella, my Bella.

I got there first. Bella was lying crumpled and bleeding on the floor with James standing over her. I lunged at him with all my fury, snarling and growling the whole time. He was away from her, and I attacked him again. Then, Emmett and Jasper took over. With fierce regret, I let them; I knew Bella needed me. Carlisle examined her: her leg was broken as were some ribs and she was bleeding from a head wound. Carlisle gave her morphine and started to work on her head. Bella screamed that her hand was burning, and I realized with horror that James had bitten her. Carlisle thought it was possible for the venom to be sucked out so that Bella could be spared vampire transformation. I would need to do it. I blanched. I would have to drink enough of her blood to get the venom out and then stop before I killed her. I wasn't sure I could. What if I couldn't? What if I killed her? But life without Bella was unimaginable to me.

I steeled myself to the deed. Carlisle and Alice both kept Bella pinned down, and I put my lips to the wound on her hand and drank her blood. It was like nothing I could have imagined. Even better than I imagined; the warmth of her blood coursed through me, so floral, so sweet, so satisfying so warm. It was like every nerve ending in my body tingled. The ecstasy of her scent, her blood, her warmth, was dizzying; that was it. I was disoriented, out of control. The thought of being out of control with Bella snapped something in my head. Control returned; the venom was nearly out; her blood was nearly clean; I had to stop. I pulled my mouth away from her hand. Her writhing had stopped; she was pale from blood loss, but she was alive and breathing. I stroked her face. Carlisle patted me on the back. Bella called my name and asked me to stay with her. I promised that I would. We asked about her mother, and she explained weakly that James had tricked her; I countered that James had tricked us all. As Emmett and Jasper set the fire to destroy James, I carefully picked Bella up and carried her outside.

Carlisle and I took Bella to the hospital in a taxi-cab while the others went back to the hotel, and Alice set to work on an alibi for Bella's injuries. Alice called Charlie and Bella's mother, Renee, and explained that Bella had tripped down two flights of stairs and been seriously hurt. Renee flew home from Florida to take care of Bella. I hardly ever left Bella's room. I talked a little with Renee. I was so anxious about Bella that I was not as careful around Renee as I should have been. I realized with chagrin that Renee as both curious and wary of me. I put more effort into feigning naps and waiting to be alone with Bella. When we were alone, I would hold her hand or stroke her face. It was hard to have physical space between us. Sometimes she mumbled in her sleep. She called my name several times, and I was so relieved that she was still thinking of me, dreaming of me, after the danger that I had put her in and the injuries she had received. I felt so guilty.

On Friday, after three days, Bella retained consciousness. I was the first thing she saw. I answered her questions and assured her that Alice's alibi was very convincing. Renee returned to Bella's room, and I feigned another nap. Renee questioned Bella about her and me. She told Bella about Phil being signed to a Florida baseball team and the little house they had bought in Jacksonville where they could all be together. Sadness and grief coursed through me. Of course, Bella would want Florida away from the cold and damp of Forks, and she would be safer, away from me. She surprised me by arguing with her mom, telling her firmly that she lived in Forks. I felt high; she would stay with me. Renee wasn't fooled by Bella's assertions that school and friends and Charlie were the reasons we wanted to stay in Forks. She asked Bella about me; Renee understood all too clearly that I was obsessed with Bella, but Bella put her off and downplayed our relationship.

After Renee left, I raised the prospect of Bella moving to Florida with her. She became alarmed. The idea of the two of us being separated caused her emotional trauma. It didn't matter that James had nearly killed her or that I was all wrong for her; she still saw me as her savior, and to her, James was simply another example of me saving her life. And then she wanted to know why I had stopped the venom from spreading, and I realized that Alice had told Bella about vampire conversion. I was beyond anger; Alice would pay for this. Bella wanted to be a vampire; she wanted to be like me. But I couldn't do that to her. I wouldn't let it happen to her. She didn't understand. She couldn't be trusted to make that choice. We argued about it back and forth; neither one of us backed down from his/her position. Suddenly, she realized that Alice had seen her as a vampire, and it only seemed to confirm her desire to become one of us. But Alice's visions change and she can make mistakes, I reminded her. I ended the conversation. I called the nurse for more pain medicine over Bella's furious protests. She begged me to stay with her always, and I promised but I qualified it—as long as "it made her happy," as long as it was "what was best."

A few more days and Bella was ready to travel. Renee flew with Bella to Sea-Tac where Charlie met them to take Bella the rest of the way home. I flew home on a different flight, the rest of my family already back in Forks though Carlisle and Alice had lingered longer than Jasper and Emmett.

Though I knew that Bella hated surprises and wasn't comfortable with dancing, I got her to agree to allow me to take her out for a surprise evening. I thought she would figure out where we were going easily. Posters all over school advertised the junior prom. Bella was suspicious but apparently clueless as to where I was taking her. I had had Alice dress Bella up, and she looked stunning even with one leg in a cast. The blue dress highlighted the rose tones in her skin so beautifully. She finally got it when Charlie called and put Tyler Crowley on the phone with me. Tyler told people he was taking Bella to the prom though he failed to confirm the date with Bella, and the evidence of Tyler being at Bella's house to pick her up, finally clued Bella into the idea of the prom. She was instantly furious with me. I told her not to be difficult, and then I turned the full force of my eyes on her, and she gave in to me.

When we were inside the gym, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her onto the dance floor. Gently, I lifted her up so that her feet rested on the tops of mine, like a child, and then we were dancing, and the warmth of her body radiated through me. She was like my own personal sun. Vaguely, I remembered the warmth and glow of the sun that my human skin had felt under the rays in the spring and summer sunshine. Vampire bodies didn't feel the sun that way, but Bella warmed me, to my core; it was ecstasy. After a while, she begrudgingly admitted that it wasn't so bad, dancing with me. It made me smile. And then suddenly, I could hear Jacob Black's thoughts. Billy had sent him to talk to Bella, to warn her to stay away from me. I was angry and jealous and outraged that Billy kept going out of his way to try to keep me away from Bella, and I was startled to read the attraction that Jacob felt for Bella. He liked her very much; he felt a kind of obsessiveness about her that I understood only too well. Bella noticed me stiffen and caught sight of Jacob. She understood at once and told me to be nice. I allowed Jacob to cut in and waited for Bella.

As soon as their conversation began to close, I was there, ready to take Bella back in my arms again. I startled Jacob, and he made his exit awkwardly. Bella asked me why I had forced her to come to the prom, and I spun her across the dance floor and outdoors where we could be alone. When we were out of view of most of our classmates, I cradled her in my arms and carried to a bench. I tried to explain that I shouldn't exist and that I wouldn't stop her from having a human life. The prom was part of normal human life for most American kids, so we were at the prom. She argued with me that she never would have come to the prom of her own free will, and I countered by quoting her saying it wasn't so bad. I made her promise to tell me something, and when she did, I asked her where she thought I was taking her.

I was horrified to hear that she had hoped that I was dressing her up to bite her, to change her into a vampire. After the initial shock, I decided to treat it as a joke. I would not change her; again we argued on this point (her desire for it and my opposition to it). We let it drop, as I assured her that her love for me was enough for me forever, and we kissed on the bench on the darkening grounds of Forks High School at the prom. Yes, I would decide for her. I would keep her human. I would protect her; she was mine as I was hers.

After the prom, my days flowed into an easy and blissful rhythm. At first, there was school, and after school was over for the year, Bella got a job at Newton's Olympic Outfitters. So there was my time with Bella and my time waiting to be with Bella. I hated being away from her, but our reunions were so pleasantly satisfying that it almost made up for the absences. She absolutely thrilled to see me again. Her whole face would light up and her breathing and heart rate would become uneven.

I was such a steady feature of Bella's home life that Charlie eased up on me. He had held me responsible for Bella's leaving Forks last spring and for her accident in Phoenix though he had no idea how responsible I actually was. I was glad he eased up. I knew that it made Bella uncomfortable when he was gruff or rude to me. Bella was a regular part of my home life too. Rosalie was still cold and reserved toward her, but everyone else accepted Bella completely, and they were happy for me. Almost as happy for me as I was, as Bella made me feel.

She loved me so, and I knew that. Most times, she would refuse me nothing especially when I cheated and used my powers on her—my eyes, my voice, my breath. But she flexed her independence from me on certain issues. She stubbornly refused to let me spend money on her. I wanted to buy her things and take her places. To be honest, I wanted control over what she had and where she went—complete control—and her dependence on my money would have given me that. But I could be realistic too. If she ever realized how much I controlled and manipulated her, it might scare her. So she could have her illusions. Her restrictions on the money I could spend on her gave her a sense of control, and I could live with that for now.

My sexual desires for Bella had not diminished, and her desires for me were fiercer than ever, but I was insistent on the frequent nights we spent together that our kissing and physical touching were limited. When Bella was an active participant in our sexual contact, her lack of control and eagerness for more intimate contact threatened all my control. She complained, but I was insistent. When she was unconscious at night, I was able to satisfy some of my intense desire for her sexually. As she would murmur my name or speak of her love for me in her sleep, I would fantasize about her, about us, about being intimate. I frequently masturbated over her unconscious body, and I often touched her and stroked her skin and her hair while she slept. Sometimes she seemed to be having erotic dreams about us, and she would moan in her sleep and her hands would trace over her body, caressing her breasts and tracing down her stomach to her thighs. At such times, she would be nearly at the point of waking and then drift back into a deeper sleep. Those dreams made me nearly wild with desire, and I found it difficult to contain myself with mere masturbation.

Though the sexual desire was always there, there was also the strange allure of her warmth. I would delight in the warmth that our close contact, through most nights, would engender. It would permeate through me. Some nights before I left her, I felt warm throughout my body. It was such a curious sensation, the warmth, the glow of her warmth, something I couldn't generate on my own. I was changed, and she had changed me. I wanted her more than ever—all of her and in every way imaginable. Leaving her, extricating myself from her body, from her touch, from her warmth was like a tiny death; there was sorrow every time in feeling that lovely warmth fade from me—that sacred part of her that she had given me and that faded away from me when I left her.

School started. Only Alice and I were left at school, senior year. Rosalie and Emmett and Jasper were supposed to be at college, Dartmouth. With a little orchestrated manipulation of the secretarial staff, Bella and I were in almost every class together. The start of school meant that Bella's birthday was approaching, and I knew she dreaded it. She didn't want to be older than I was. Her fears were irrational as I tried to explain, but she was stubborn. Though I knew she hated attention, surprises, and presents, my family and I planned to celebrate her birthday. Rose, Emmett, and Jasper were even returning home for it.

The day of Bella's birthday arrived. Charlie and Renee had coordinated to get Bella a camera and scrapbook to document her senior year. Alice and I met her in the parking lot before school. Alice wished her a happy birthday, and Bella shushed her to silence. I held out my hand to her and looked down into her eyes; she smiled up at me in that way that never ceased to amaze me, and I listened to her heart and breathing as she reacted to my touch, and I felt her warmth. After I confirmed that she didn't want me to wish her a happy birthday, Alice asked Bella what time she would be over at our house for birthday festivities. When Bella objected, we essentially said she didn't have a choice.

After school, I rode home with Bella, and we watched _Romeo and Juliet_. I watched Bella cry over the star-crossed lovers and reflected on the ease of human suicide. My reflections caught her attention, and she demanded to know what I meant. I told her that I had decided I would not live in a world where she did not and that last spring, when James had lured her to the ballet studio and I had raced to find her alive, that I had contemplated suicide. She was alarmed, but I assured her that I would never put her in danger again, so we could drop the whole suicide discussion.

Charlie brought home pizza, so Bella didn't need to cook. After they ate, I asked Charlie if it was okay to take Bella out. He was happy to have her enjoy herself and insisted on Bella taking her camera, his birthday gift. She snapped a picture of me before we left. When we got close to the house, I could feel her tension and tried to reassure her. Alice had outdone herself—bowls of roses everywhere, even outside the house on steps of the porch. My family members sang happy birthday as we walked in the door. I put my arm around her and kissed her hair hoping these actions would encourage her. Bella's first gift was a car stereo which Emmett installed as she opened the wrapping paper of the emptied box. Bella went to mine next after confirming that I hadn't spent money on it, but as she did so, the edge of the insignificant wrapping paper cut in to the skin on her finger fractionally, and a tiny drop of blood weld from the cut.

I yelled, "NO!" threw Bella out of the way, and crashed into Jasper who was lunging at Bella. The smell of the single drop of Bella's blood was suddenly compounded by a heavier scent. Bella must have cut herself on whatever I threw her on—glass, I realized, as I thought back on what I had heard. As I struggled with Jasper, Emmett pulled Jasper from behind, and Carlisle ordered Rose and Emmett to get Jasper outside. Esme followed. I tried to stay to help, but both Alice and I had to leave. The smell of Bella's blood was too much for all of us except Carlisle. Carlisle stitched Bella's wound from the glass plates I threw her on alone. I felt horrible, sick. This situation was the worst scenario I could imagine. I had put Bella in peril again—not from a rogue, human-hunting vampire but from one of my own family members. I tallied the threats against her. I had nearly killed her the first day we met. Tyler nearly killed her. The men in Port Angeles would have hurt her or worse. James, from my world, had tried to kill her, and now Jasper, again from my world, had tried to kill her. Three out of the five threats sprung from me and my world. It was too much.

I had deluded myself into thinking that this relationship was possible. Alice's vision must have been flawed. I couldn't, I wouldn't be responsible for Bella's death. I knew at that moment that we had to leave. I had to get away from Bella for her own protection. It felt like torture—searing pain, too much to bear. I steeled myself. I had to hide it from her. She would fight me if she knew. I tried to comfort Jasper, and when I knew Carlisle was done with Bella's arm, I re-entered the house.

Alice got Bella a clean shirt of roughly the same color blue and gathered together Bella's gifts to take home. I drove Bella home; I was upset. She knew that, but I kept my plans hidden and my emotions mostly under control. My anger leaked through the surface when she tried to take the blame for the accident. I yelled at her. I told her that with normal people, human people, a paper cut wouldn't be a life-threatening incident, and she fought me by telling me she would rather die than be without me. I dismissed her threat. I would protect her at any cost—even the cost to myself.

At her house, she begged me to stay, and I relented. In the few days it would take us to prepare to move, I would spend as much of that time with her as I could bear. Alone with her in her room, we sat together on her bed. She went to open the rest of her gifts, but I refused to take any further chances with her. I took the wrapping paper off each of her gifts instead of allowing her to open them. Carlisle and Esme had given her two airline tickets (one for her and one for me) to Florida; Bella liked the idea of us visiting her mother, and my gift, the CD of my compositions, brought tears to her beautiful eyes. I didn't know where I would find the strength to leave her, but I knew I had to find it. After she winced from the pain in her arm, I flew through the house to get pain reliever for her arm and forced her to take the pills. When I kissed her goodnight, my control slipped. I kissed her fiercely knowing that this was one of the few I had left. My breathing was just as jagged as hers when I finally broke away from her. She encouraged me to kiss her again, but I told her to sleep and held her in my arms as she drifted off to sleep, her warmth permeating my body and filling me with longing and regret because I knew what I needed to do to protect her.

During the night I thought about all the ways I was wrong for and menacing toward her. They were overwhelming. Of course, they were. I had always known that. Only Alice's vision had given me a reason to hope it could be otherwise. That's why I couldn't keep the hint of sorrow, grief, from Bella's lullaby. It had to end. Some part of me always knew that. Alice's visions could be wrong. She had seen Bella dead in the ballet studio, but that hadn't happened. The other vision must be wrong too.

When Bella woke in the morning, I kissed her and left, and it was all the more painful to feel her warmth leave me and know that soon I would be bereft of it forever. At home, I told my family how I felt and why we needed to leave. Only Alice fought with me. Impossibly, she believed in her original vision of Bella in my life, of Bella in our lives. She wasn't swayed by the inaccuracy of the vision of Bella dead. She argued that I wasn't taking Bella's choices into account. I knew I was ignoring Bella's choices, but I was choosing what was best for her. That had to matter. I would protect her despite what she wanted or what I wanted. The bottom line was that Bella was human. Humans and vampires didn't mix in non-predatory circumstances. Our whole world was predicated on that point, and I had violated that. I had risked her life over and over again. Risked exposing myself, my family, and my world. We had to leave. But Alice countered my arguments; she argued that if I turned Bella into a vampire—there would be no threat—no threat to Bella, no threat to us and our world. She reminded me that this was what Bella wanted, but I couldn't do that. Not to Bella. I wouldn't take her life away or condemn her soul. Because I wouldn't allow the conversion, I convinced them that it was time to go.

Carlisle agreed and went to make the arrangements at the hospital. Rose, Emmett, and Esme worked at packing up what we needed and making arrangements for us elsewhere. Alice went with Jasper to try to convince him to spend time with Tanya's family. I went off to school and pretended everything was normal. It would only take a few days to get everything ready.

My emotions were difficult to contain. I felt so much grief and longing every time I looked at Bella—it was beyond pain. I also felt such powerful revulsion and self-loathing for the risks I had imposed on her and the pain I would cause her by disappearing. I withheld my feelings as well as I could. I knew she noticed. I didn't talk much, but I did try to answer her questions. She went to work after school, and I was waiting for her with Charlie when she got home. I was watching a game with Charlie when she walked in the door. I stubbornly watched the game with Charlie. I knew Bella wanted to speak to me desperately, but I ignored her. I had to do the right thing. Perhaps she sensed what was coming. She was seized with a desire to take pictures, and she ran through the house snapping pictures including ones of me and her father; Charlie took a picture of the two of us. I knew I would have to reclaim the pictures—but I would do that later with the rest of our things. I needed to remove all traces of us in her life to make her "move on" and return to a completely human life with human friends and … (I forced myself to think it) … human … boyfriends.

Bella walked me to the door and asked me to stay. I told her I couldn't. I saw how her face fell. It pained me so much to cause her pain, but I had no choice; I would protect her. I was even more distant and withdrawn from Bella the next day. I felt horrible and guilty about it, but I didn't have any choice. I could barely stand to look at her—knowing this was the end. I walked her to her truck. I didn't go over that night, and the guilt and pain I felt were crushing.

We were ready. My family left in the morning, and I would join them after I told Bella good-bye. After school that day, I waited for her in the parking lot. I asked Bella if I could come over. The anxiety and pain in her face were heartbreaking. I ran to met her at her house; I took her hand, savoring its warmth, and asked her to take a walk with me. She hesitated but followed reluctantly.

Once we were in the forest, she demanded to know what was going on. I told her we were leaving. She realized that my references to "we" did not include her. I told her it wasn't right for her to come with us. She didn't belong. I wasn't good for her. I didn't want her anymore. That did it; I could see that she believed that I didn't want her—as if that were possible. I had prepared myself for this. I kept my face cool and detached. She had to believe this—but the pain on her face echoed my own. I felt like I would rather die than be without her.

Some of it, I couldn't say to her face, so I stared into the forest and continued the lies. She pleaded with me. I could feel her distress. I asked her to promise to take care of herself, to avoid anything "reckless or stupid"—for Charlie. She promised, and I vowed that I would not return—that it would be like I never existed. I felt her heart rate accelerate. "We won't bother you again," I told her. Her distress increased; more pain flashed across her face. Her breathing became erratic. I murmured my good-byes and kissed her forehead for a moment, the skin warming my lips one last time; it was torment, and then I flew from her. Leaving her just on the trail by her house. Safe.

I ran from her and circled back to her house. I left a note for Charlie in a passable imitation of Bella's handwriting, telling him where to find her, just in case. Then I took the things that would remind her of me—the photographs of me, of us, the CD of my music, the plane tickets. Though I knew I should destroy them—I couldn't. I wanted to leave something with her—even if hidden, so I pulled up her flooring very carefully and hid her things there. Then I left to rejoin my family.

Though the cover story was that we had moved to Los Angeles, Carlisle and Esme moved to Ithaca, New York. Jasper was attending Cornell, and Carlisle taught some classes there. Emmett and Rosalie did some traveling. At first, I tried to stay with Esme and Carlisle, but I was miserable. I felt wretched. I knew I had hurt Bella, and though I knew it was for her own good, her pain and my pain at being away from her, paralyzed me. I hid in my room. I was morose and gloomy. I made Esme frantic with worry. Emmett tried to distract me and pull me out of my misery when he called or visited, but I wouldn't let him. There seemed no escape from it. I imaged her face, her scent, her touch, her warmth. The ache and longing for her consumed me. I knew I was driving my family crazy, so I left them. I tried tracking Victoria. It was surprisingly harder than I thought. It caused me pain to think how Bella would have enjoyed that—seeing me struggle with something I wasn't good at.

I tracked Victoria to Texas, and then followed her trail to South America. In between tracking activities, I would hold up in a hotel room and let myself wallow in misery. I hunted to distract myself, then tracked badly and wallowed in misery. Would it ever decrease? Could I stand to live like this? The only thing that gave me any comfort was thinking that Bella would move on, that she would continue her life and be safe without me. I heard from my family now and again. They called me every so often. Esme and Carlisle pleaded for me to return to Ithaca, but I knew I would only worry them if they saw just how devastated I was. Emmett and Alice both tried hard to cheer me up and get me to visit. Alice even suggested that I abandon this course of action which clearly caused me so much pain. She suggested we could some how find a way to both keep Bella safe and have her in our lives. But I wouldn't entertain her suggestions. Weeks and months dragged by. I got no closer to Victoria, and I felt no relief or easing of my absolute misery. I was desperate and miserable and alone. My life was barely worth living. I felt hollow and empty. All my happiness and joy seemed stripped from me and there underneath the floorboards in Bella's room. And there was further pain in knowing that Bella didn't know I was suffering; she had thought I didn't want her any more, so my pain seemed to serve no purpose. And yet it did, it kept me away from Bella, from her world. Weeks blurred into themselves, but it didn't become any easier. It was hell—beyond pain. Hours became torturous agony, and I knew my will was skipping. I couldn't live without her; I couldn't live like this.

It was March, and I received an unexpected phone call from Rosalie. I listened in horror as she told me that Alice had had a vision. In the vision, Alice had seen Bella jumping off a cliff into the ocean and that Bella hadn't come to the surface of the water. She had drowned; she had killed herself. The world seemed to go black. I felt like I was suffocating. Though I didn't breath air like a human—draw oxygen out of the air and into my blood to keep me alive—this sense of suffocation was like the weight of all the emotions I felt cutting off reason, cutting off any sense of self-preservation. Bella had been everything to me, my light, my reason for being, my star, my sun. Separating myself from her had been unendurable. But the idea that our separation (despite my pain and her pain) was making her safe allowed me to suffer through it. Now there was nothing. A black void of desolation from which there was no recourse.

I didn't even realize what I was doing. I found myself walking the streets aimlessly. I realized I still had my phone in my hand, and I threw it into the nearest trash can I saw. I didn't know how long I had been wandering. I returned to my hotel room. I could barely process what Rosalie had told me. I couldn't imagine a world without Bella. Suicide! Had I driven Bella to this? I was so sickened that I sank to the floor of my room. I was so monstrous. What had I done? I had actually lost her. Not because I had killed her or because another vampire had killed her, but because I had left her. I had to check. I had to find some way to know if this was true. I couldn't trust Alice. If she knew I knew Bella was dead, she would see my course of action and try to alter it. And I knew what I would do, if Bella was really dead, I would go to the Volturi. My life was unbearable. It had been desperate and full of misery over the past seven months because I had been separated from her, and yet she was alive and healing, or so I thought. Now, she was no longer, and I was responsible. There was no reason to go on. I wanted to die.

If she was dead, Charlie would know. I used the hotel phone to call the house. Someone answered; not just someone, Jacob Black answered; I recognized his voice. He seemed to recognize mine too because his tone became harsh. I asked for Charlie, and he told me that Charlie wasn't there. I asked where Charlie was, and he answered that Charlie was at the funeral—her funeral, Bella's funeral. I couldn't breath. I felt weak and cold. It was true. She was dead! I pulled myself out of my agony to end the phone call; I lied to Jacob; I said that I was Carlisle and hung up the phone. I made my way to the airport. I bought tickets for Florence and began my journey. I was barely aware of the people around me—I felt so terrible. I just wanted it all to end—the pain, the guilt, the torment, the agony.

In Florence, I stole a car and drove to Volterra. I was brought to see Aro, Caius, and Marcus. I made my request. I asked them to kill me. Aro was particularly troubled by my request. He felt that killing me would be a waste. He asked me to consider joining them, becoming one of the Volturi, but I told him that I just wanted death and the peace from the pain I hoped would accompany it. He asked to read my mind, and I let him. Perhaps the depth of my pain would persuade him to grant my request. He found my experiences fascinating. As he read my mind, I read his reactions, and I became worried. He was too interested in Alice. Had I threatened Alice now too? He wouldn't grant my request, and I knew that he knew, after reading my mind, that I had other ideas about forcing the hands of the Volturi or giving them no alternative but to kill me. I took my leave and pondered what would be the most effective way to get what I wanted.

I had many ideas—some more desperate than others. I decided on walking out into the sunlight bare-chested at noon during the height of the festival for St. Marcus Day. I made my preparations. I stood beneath the clock tower and waited for the bells to stop chiming. I took a step toward the light, and I smiled. Through the crowd of people talking and laughing, it seemed to me that I could hear Bella's voice. I went to take another step, and something bumped against me. I looked down puzzled. It seemed to me that Bella was actually there; my arms circled around her and pulled her toward me. Her warmth coursed through my body, but I didn't understand how that could be. The only sense I could make of it was that I was dead. That they had actually killed me, and I was in heaven with Bella. Carlisle must have been right; there was heaven for our kind as well. Bella struggled in my arms and said something. I kissed her hair and was amazed that she smelled the same and felt the same—so soft, so warm. It was impossible. I quoted the lines Romeo said at the tomb and said that I didn't care if this was hell. The Bella in my arms spoke again. I heard her more clearly this time, the disorientation of the shock of seeing her receded slightly. She said that we weren't dead but that the Volturi had to be there. I stared at her. Was it possible that this was real? That she was here with me and that we were both alive? I asked her to repeat what she had said. She did, and the panic in her voice and her eyes helped to clear my mind.

I pulled us back into the shadows and positioned her in back of me so that I could face the approaching Volturi. Felix and Demetri moved from the shadows. I greeted them and tried to defuse the situation, but they were insistent on taking me and Bella to Aro. I tried to decline, but they would not be dissuaded. Then to my intense relief I could read Alice's mind; she was coming to help. She had brought Bella here to stop me, to show me that Bella was alive. Felix and Demetri were not pleased with Alice's arrival, but then Jane arrived, and I knew that we couldn't fight our way out. Jane's powers were too great. We had to go with them to talk to Aro.

I felt so many emotions at the same time I thought would burst. Bella was alive. She was here. She had come for me, ME, as impossible as it seemed, and here I was putting her life in danger again, exposing her to the Volturi. And Alice—and I was angry and flattered at the same time. She loved me enough to risk her life for me, and she had risked Bella's life for me. What would happen now? Would we be killed—all of us? Or could we some how get out of this alive—all of us? I had no answers.

I wrapped my arm around Bella's waist and pulled her along following Jane to see Aro again. Bella looked into my eyes and though I saw the raging curiosity in them, I shook my head; we couldn't talk now. They would hear everything. I turned my attention to Alice; she tried to explain herself briefly. I asked her what had happened—and the images that flooded her mind took my breath away: "near-drownings, stalking vampires, werewolf friends," Laurent, Victoria, _Victoria!_ and Bella destroyed or nearly destroyed by my absence, our absence. It had all been worthless. We never should have left. It had done no good. It had caused her un-describable pain and had not stopped her from being in danger. It had even perversely increased the threats toward her—adding vicious and unstable werewolves to hostile vampires.

Onward we went into the bowels of the Volturi fortress. Alice and I helped Bella when her human limitations made it difficult to follow. I kept my arm around her waist whenever I could, relishing in her warmth. She wrapped her arms around me too, and the joy and ecstasy that flooded through me were hard to contain. Though we faced death, though I had put her danger again and again, though I had hurt her so badly, she seemed happy to be in my arms; she seemed like she still loved me. I reached to stroke her face and her lips with my free hand, and I kissed her hair when I was able, her warmth (stricken from me for months) coursed through me, and I couldn't understand how I had been able to deprive myself of it. It flooded through me and seemed to reconstruct my ruptured heart and to stave off the suffocation I felt without her. When I could tear my thoughts away from my own joy at our reunion, I could feel and hear heart beat and breathe respond to my touches and kisses. It seemed as though nothing had changed—and yet I knew it had to have.

Bella began shaking, and I realized with horror that I was making her cold. Though it pained me to release her, I started to, but she understood what I was doing and refused to let me go, and I was so thankful not to be separated from contact with her skin. Onward we went—from the stone passageways to the reception area to a stone turret where the Volturi were gathered, the feeding room. The recognition of the room filled me with dread. Aro drifted toward Jane and greeted her, complimenting her for returning with us. Aro recognized Alice and Bella at once from my thoughts; he was pleased to see us all. He had his brothers summoned and engaged us in conversation. I tried to explain to Alice and Bella what Aro could do—how he couldn't read minds from a distance like I could but, through touch, he could read a person's whole mind—all his or her thoughts. I could feel Aro's longing for both what I could do and what Alice could do. He wanted us, and his desire put us in danger, but how much danger I didn't know.

Marcus and Caius joined Aro. They didn't seem as excited by the situation, but I could feel Marcus' shock and awe as he read the emotional ties between Alice and me and both of us and Bella. Most vampires didn't form attachments as vital or as wholly committed. I tried to convey this to Alice as subtly as I could—but our communication only intensified Aro's longing for us both.

Aro shifted his focus to Bella and me. "La tua cantante," he called her my singer—someone whose blood sung for me—appealed to me more strongly than the blood of other humans. They had a name for it—it was common enough to have a name—even if it happened only occasionally. While Aro thought I wasted the "gift" of my singer by keeping her alive, I disagreed. Aro attempted to flatter me by comparing my restraint with Bella to Carlisle's restraint from human blood while working so closely to it. Aro called me an angry version of Carlisle. I didn't care about the flattery.

I was suddenly sick of this. I wanted their judgment; I didn't want to be toyed with. Aro was drawn back to Bella. He wondered about Bella's immunity to my gift. He wondered if she could resist more than what I could do. He asked me if he could touch her; I threw it back at him. "Ask her," I said. Bella looked at me in panic, and I tried to reassure her. So did Aro. He reached out his hand, and she allowed him to touch her.

I focused my mind on Aro. He concentrated—but he could read nothing—just like me. I felt a surge of pride—Bella could thwart Aro of the Volturi. Then I saw it in his mind. He would test Bella with some of the others. He would test Jane on Bella. I couldn't allow it; I wouldn't allow it. Bella couldn't be tortured by Jane. I growled. Alice tried to caution me, but I knew Jane was about to assault Bella, and I flew at her. Of course, she unleashed her gift on me in response. Immediately, I cringed and writhed in agony under Jane's power. My body crashed to the stone floor. I felt burning, searing pain—the burning pain of vampire transformation—but more intense, as if doubled or condensed, some how made even more acute than I remembered. But maybe it wasn't my pain; perhaps it was Jane's pain and she was projecting her pain into my mind. It didn't matter; it was agony. It seemed impossible not to scream. I concentrated on not crying out, and then I heard Bella's voice shout, "Stop!"

Aro called to Jane and asked her to redirect her focus. Jane happily obliged and looked at Bella. As soon as Jane looked away from me, the terrible burning stopped. I quickly got to my feet; I was terrified for Bella. I couldn't imagine her pain as a human, but then I realized, watching Bella's face, that she was fine. She was as immune to me as she was from Aro and Jane—and that might mean that she was immune to Alex and Demetri too. Aro thought my restraint with Bella was a waste. Ha! She was a gift, _my_ gift. If we survived this, I would see to it that we were never parted again while she lived.

I returned to Bella's side, and Alice moved back silently. Though Jane's gift touched me no longer, Bella's warmth seemed to cleanse me from the taint of Jane, of the Volturi. Aro tried to comfort an irritated Jane and then redirected his focus on us. Aro asked each of us, including, to my amazement, Bella, if I or she would join the Volturi. He was intrigued by Bella, interested in her; that worried me. We all declined Aro's invitations—Bella in a choked whisper. Aro, of course, felt our refusals to be wastes of talent, and I feared we were about to be killed. Why else would we have been brought to the turret—the feeding room? When I voiced my fears, Aro assured us they were already in the turret awaiting a "fresh catch" when they were told of our visit.

Cauis brought the discussion back to Bella—a human who knew about us. I tried to argue against this point, but he brought it back to my commitment to keep Bella human. Their ultimatum was that we could go, but only if we promised that Bella would become an immortal soon. I deliberated. I wasn't sure I could agree to this. All of my being fought against this outcome for her. She looked into my eyes and pleaded for it. I couldn't hide the anguish I felt, and I saw pain and hurt flash across her face. I was such an abomination. I was doing it again, hurting her, but I couldn't, I wouldn't damn her.

And then, Alice moved forward, toward Aro, and I heard the conversation she had had with Bella on the plane—her promise to turn Bella into a vampire herself if necessary. Aro allowed Alice to touch his hand, and as Aro read these thoughts in Alice's mind, I clenched my teeth. Aro saw not only Alice's original vision of Bella as an immortal with my family but also Alice's promise to change Bella herself. I was furiously angry with Alice—that she would be willing to go against me in terms of Bella and immortality. But as Aro continued to read Alice's thoughts, my worries returned. Aro's longing for me as a Volturi soldier was great, but his desire now for Alice was greater. He had seen Alice's visions in my head, but the access to all of Alice's thoughts and visions excited him even more. Even though he tried to suppress his longing for us and his jealousy of Carlisle because he knew I could read them in his thoughts, they were there. There was danger or the threat of danger to our family. When they broke apart, Aro was quiet confident that Alice meant what she had said and what she had seen in her original vision of Bella—she would become a vampire, she would be part of my family.

If we were free to go, I was anxious for it. I didn't want Bella around vampires feeding. It put her at risk for one, and it would be traumatic for her to witness for another. In parting, Cauis emphasized our need to fulfill our promise about Bella's transformation soon, and we left. Aro gave me a cloak with which to cover my bare chest once we were outside the Volturi compound. Demetri accompanied us. We hurried, but we weren't fast enough. We walked through the mass of victims that Heidi drove toward the turret. The feeding began before we could escape the hallway. Demetri left us in the reception room—ordering us there until dark.

Once we were by ourselves, Bella seemed to go into shock—which wasn't surprising. She started shaking and crying. She was tired and hungry, and she had been through intense emotional stress. I wrapped the cloak around her and sat with her in my arms and tried to comfort her, her warmth filtered through me. Seeing the Volturi victims had pushed Bella over the edge. She was horrified. The human receptionist asked if we needed anything, and I declined her offer. The receptionist's desire to become one of the Volturi some day disgusted Bella even further, and as I looked at the revulsion in her face, my conviction to keep Bella human at whatever cost blazed stronger than ever. Though she said she wanted immortality, I knew better. This was her true reaction to such a life. She didn't want this, and I would protect her from it. Though I knew that Bella wanted to be a vegetarian vampire like us, like my family members, a vampire was a vampire, a soulless monster, and I wouldn't let her make this choice.

She started crying again and put her arms around me. She asked if it was sick for her to be happy now—happy to be with me and in my arms. I held her tightly to me, basking in her glow, and told her I felt the same way and that there were several reasons for us to be happy: we were alive, we were together, and we would be alive tomorrow. Alice concurred, informing us that she would be with Jasper in a day. Bella stared into my eyes, and I stared back. She looked so tired. She commented on the blackness of my eyes and offered to sit with Alice, but I couldn't be separated from her. Her scent and her warmth were as powerful as ever, and I felt the longing for her blood but something had changed. The catastrophic pain I had felt for over a day—believing that she was dead, separated from me forever, and that I was the cause of her death, the source of that kind of overwhelming pain—had quelled the lure of her blood. I would never be the source of danger or pain for her again.

I tried to explain that I was in control of that part of myself. She let it go. She lay still in my arms and stared at my face and into my eyes, and I stared back. She was even more beautiful than I remembered despite her exhaustion and anxiety, and she was there in my arms, so soft and warm. I never wanted to let her go. I wanted to hold her forever. I wanted her to be mine.

Alice interrupted my thoughts to ask about what Aro meant about "la tua cantante," and I explained the term and what it meant. Alice and I then began to discuss how we would get home, and though I concentrated on our plans, I couldn't stop myself from leaning down to kiss Bella, her hair and her face. I listened as her heart fluttered at each kiss. She was oddly silent, and I didn't know what to make of that. I loved her obsessively. It had been madness to think that I could live without her. Alice had been right; we would find a way. I couldn't imagine what that way would be—but the eight of us, Bella included, would find a way for this to work. I would not be separated from my Bella.

I knew it was getting dark outside, but I wasn't sure we could leave, and then Alec appeared and told us we were free to go and encouraged us to do so quickly. Outside people were still celebrating St. Marcus Day—dressed up as vampires—as if anyone would choose to be a real vampire. They were absurd. Alice left us to "borrow" a car, and I held Bella to me, supporting her as she needed me. Alice pulled a car around, and I led Bella to it and helped her into the back seat. Alice started apologizing for the car, and I joked with her about the Porsche she had pinched for the drive to Volterra. I promised to get her one for Christmas.

I encouraged Bella to sleep, and I held her in my arms. She protested that she didn't want to. She was just as stubborn as always, and I told her so. We continued to stare at each other in the car and on the plane to Rome. She didn't talk or ask me anything. I hoped she would fall asleep, but she just continued to look at my face and into my eyes. I longed to be alone with her, but I could live with this. We were safe and together, and she was in my arms. She had loved me enough to come and save me despite the danger.

On the flight from Rome to Atlanta, I voiced my disapproval as Bella ordered Coca Cola, but she silenced my objections by telling me she was afraid to sleep because she feared nightmares, and I could too easily imagine the nightmares our visit to the Volturi would inspire. She continued her eerie silence, but with her in my arms, I didn't fret over it. Instead I traced the features of her lovely face with my fingers and continued kissing her hair, her face, and her wrists. Her heart fluttered at my touch, but she seemed subdued and restrained in a way that I couldn't identify. I didn't dare kiss her on the lips—I wasn't sure of my reaction or of hers, and I thought it best not to risk that until we were alone. I was just so happy to be alive and reunited with my Bella that I was content to hold her, touch her, feel her warmth, and kiss her in the silence and privacy (due to the sleeping passengers) of the red-eye flight.

Of course, my family was waiting for us at the airport. Esme and Carlisle were both very upset with me for what I had attempted and profoundly relieved and grateful that we were all alright. They both thanked Bella for her courage in going to rescue me from myself. Jasper was there for Alice. Bella was suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue, and Esme and I supported her through the airport. I stiffened as I realized Rosalie and Emmett were waiting for us. Though I knew Rosalie felt intense remorse for her actions, I was still upset that her actions had endangered me, Bella, and Alice. Esme begged me to ride with Rose and Emmett, to allow Rose to express her regret. Reluctantly, I helped Bella into the car, and, exhausted as she was, she lay her head against me and closed her eyes.

Rosalie surprised us both by choking out a heart felt apology and a request for forgiveness. Bella forgave her easily, and I was surprised to find my own anger at Rose abating a little. Bella fell asleep after that, and I cradled her in my arms and carried her to her house when we arrived. Charlie was livid, of course. He was furious with Bella for disappearing on him and worrying him to death. But his real fury was directed toward me for disappearing on Bella, for what my absence had done to her, and for being the catalyst to her disappearance. I didn't blame him. I was to blame for so much. I didn't try to argue with Charlie as he yelled at me.

Bella struggled to regain consciousness to defend me. As I carried her to the house, she asked me to let her down. Though I doubted she could walk the distance, I set her on her feet. She started to collapse almost immediately, and I caught her up in my arms and carried her upstairs to her room. When Charlie demanded that I leave, I assured her that I wouldn't be far. I would wait until Charlie was asleep and return to her room to watch over her and to wait for her to return to consciousness.

I rode with Rose and Emmett to the house. I was lost in my own thoughts, and they seemed content to wait until we were home to hear the whole story. We joined the others in the living room, and Alice began explaining what Bella had told her about Laurent and Victoria returning for Bella and about the werewolves being back and protecting Bella—killing Laurent and driving Victoria away on multiple occasions. We were all alarmed by the return of the werewolves and of their immunity to Alice's gift. We thought they had died out. Bella's lure for all things dangerous appeared as strong as ever. Alice and I both filled in the details of what happened in Volterra—of Aro's regards to Carlisle, of our promise that Bella would transform, of Aro's invitations to all of us, Bella included, to join the Volturi, and of our polite refusals.

We strategized about hunting Victoria and made plans to re-enter our lives in Forks after so many months away, and I apologized to my family for my insistence on uprooting us though it did neither Bella nor I any good and caused us all pain and suffering. They were gracious and forgiving. They knew and understood the anguish I suffered over Bella—my intense desire to be with her warring with my equally intense desire to protect her. I loved her, and we would find a way to make it work. Even Rosalie was making an effort to be more accepting of Bella and kinder toward her. While it was good to be reunited with my family, I longed to be with Bella again, and I quickly excused myself.

Bella was so exhausted that she slept soundly, murmuring my name only occasionally. I stroked her face and kissed her hair—inhaling her scent greedily and feeling her warmth radiate through me. I was both anxious for her to wake and for her to get the sleep she needed so badly after our ordeal, always a conflict. A little after 1:00 AM, she began to stir. New anxiety flooded through me, now that we were alone, I would find out how she felt—whether she could forgive me for everything I had put her through and the danger I had left her in. She surprised me as usual. She didn't seem to believe her senses. At first, she seemed to think she was dreaming or hallucinating and then she thought she was dead and then back to dreaming. I tried to assure her that she was awake, and she finally started to believe me. Much more like herself, the questions began. Had Italy happened? The time? Charlie? Our cover story? I answered the questions I could, but I had no story that would explain our absence. She asked what I had been up to before Italy—but I couldn't tell her at first. I couldn't tell her how pathetic I had been or about my failed attempts to track Victoria. I had failed her so miserably. I admitted to tracking, but I evaded her more specific questions.

Finally, I had to say something. I needed to try to explain how sorry I was for everything I had put her through and the futility of all my efforts. I apologized, and the ideas flowed out. I didn't realize Victoria was such a threat. I had no idea Bella would turn to werewolves for protection. I told her how sick I felt over all of that. She interrupted me. She tried to tell me I couldn't feel guilty about things that happened to her. She suggested that I needed to go my own way and let her deal with the consequences of her actions.

I realized with horror that she still believed I didn't want her, didn't love her. I tried to explain that I went to the Volturi not because I felt guilty but because thought she was dead. She still didn't understand. I reminded her that I was a good liar—my words made her flinch, but I pressed on. I explained that I had lied to her in the forest when I said I didn't want her. I had done it because it seemed like the only way she would let me go. It was terrible. It caused me so much pain to do it, but protecting her from vampires, from even my family, became more important than her pain and my pain. I said those deceitful words to encourage her to move on with her life, but it didn't work. Then I turned the conversation around and asked Bella how she could possibly have believed the one statement that I didn't want her after six intense months and the thousands of times I had told her I loved her.

She started crying in response and went back to the assertion that she was dreaming. I tried to explain how much I loved her. I moved to kiss her on the mouth, and she shocked me by begging me not to. Uncertainly and fear engulfed me. Didn't she love me any more? Had she moved on after all? Had she found someone else? I asked her to explain. She assured me that her feelings for me had not changed—she loved me. That was all I needed to hear. Despite her protest, I kissed her. I struggled to be as gentle with her as I had before, but my passion was greater, more intense—the time apart, the threat of death, both our deaths—made it greater, more consuming. She didn't seem to mind because she kissed me back and touched my face greedily, the same way I touched hers. Her warmth engulfed me in an achingly pleasurable way. "Bella, Bella," I moaned, and when she pulled away, we were both gasping for breath. Then I lay my face against her chest to listen to her racing heart and feel its warmth—I had been away from it too long to be deprived of its gentle rhythm so close and immediate to me now. It pulsed her warmth through both of us as we lay wrapped in each other's arms.

I tried to assure her that wouldn't leave her again, but I felt her disbelief. I tried again to explain why I had left—because I endangered her life by including her in my world. She didn't believe me; she thought I could be strong enough to leave her again if that was what was best. I told her I wasn't that strong. Victoria came up, and she became distraught at the idea of me hunting Victoria. I told her it was too late for Victoria—after the assaults she made against Bella in my absence, after Bella had been forced to rely on werewolves for protection. Bella tried to assure me that the werewolves were not a problem. I let it drop; I didn't want to fight with her on this issue, not now, when I was trying to make amends for all the damage I had done.

She moved on to other problems like the Volturi. I assured her that the Volturi measured time differently than we did and suggested that she could be thirty before they thought of her again. This suggestion induced her to panic. Tears welded up in her eyes. The idea of being older than me terrified her—she worried about when she looked old and I looked the same. She didn't understand; her human aging would never matter to me. She would always be the Bella of that first day—seventeen and beautiful and human. I would never see her differently. I tried to explain that and then moved on to the possibility of her wanting more than me. She could change her mind, and the idea terrified me. I had messed up so badly that it could have been a real possibility. But after all I had done, she still loved me, still responded to my touch and kisses in ways that showed how much power I still had over her. And all this was without unleashing the full power of my eyes, my voice, and my breath. I didn't believe that she could leave me or even choose someone else, but she had to believe that she had choices.

She scoffed at the idea of wanting something more than me—just as I had hoped, and she didn't approve of my continued desire to die when she did. It was melodramatic; I'll admit, but it was romantically alluring, and Romeo was one her favorite literary characters. It showed a depth of commitment that mere grieving didn't. The Volturi, I assured her, could be put off—I had plans for doing so. I was arrogant about it, and that made her mad. She pushed me away from her and declared her intention to visit my family that night and put her mortal/immortal status to a vote. I tried to dissuade her, but when I couldn't, I agreed to take her there reluctantly. I pulled her into my arms and jumped out the window. Then I pulled her into place on my back, and we were off running through the forest. Her warmth was comforting and pleasurable at the same time. I needed it.

As we neared the house, I felt her kiss the back of my neck. We joked lightly, and I realized that she still didn't trust this, didn't trust me. I pledge to earn her trust back, and she flipped it around by saying that she didn't trust herself. I asked her to explain, and she told me that she had never seen herself as enough for me. I tried to tell her that I had to be with her, that she was the only one I wanted and would always be the only one, but she was dismissive. I asked her about our previous conversation about her greatest problem. She said I was her greatest problem, that me leaving her was worse than anything else she could face, and I remembered Alice's thoughts of what she had seen and what Charlie had told Alice about after we left Forks. I was such an abomination. I felt searing guilt and agony. Could I ever make up for what I had done to her? She saw the anguish on my face and begged me not to be sad. I tried to explain that I could never leave her again. I hoped that in time she would believe that.

She asked for her things back, and I found a little relief in seeing pleasure flit across her face as I told her her things were never gone, just hidden under her flooring. She mused that some part of her seemed to have known that I still loved her, and she told me about hearing a voice, my voice, when she did things that were "reckless and stupid." I was horror-struck to realize that she had been purposefully risking her life to hear my voice. As I began to say so, she stopped me. She was putting something together in her mind and I wasn't to interrupt her. Her eyes suddenly focused and filled with wonder; she looked deeply into my eyes and said confidently, "You love me." I answered back, "Truly, I do," and I took her face in my hands and kissed her, and we were again both breathing irregularly when we broke apart. I confessed to being pathetic after leaving Forks, of wallowing in misery, while she had continued the rhythm of her life for Charlie. I loved her so.

As we walked toward the house, I told her it didn't matter what my family members said. I was allowing her this gesture, but it didn't matter—I wouldn't let her be changed. We entered the house, and I called their names. Carlisle greeted us first and led us into the dining room where everyone took a place. When everyone was seated, Bella began. She made sure that everyone was aware of Alice's promise to turn Bella herself and of our promise to the Volturi that Bella would be changed. Then Bella asked us all to vote on our desire to have her join our family. I countered that the threat from the Volturi was not as significant as Bella made it sound. I was confident that we could hide Bella when the time came and that they would not be able to find her. Bella redirected us back to the vote. I voted "no," and Rosalie voted "no," but everyone else voted "yes." Though I had been dismissive with Bella outside the house about the vote not meaning anything, I could hear it in their thoughts; this did matter to them and to how they viewed Bella. I begged Carlisle not to vote "yes," but he did anyway—and if I was honest, I could understand his rationale; it was the only way it made sense—for Bella's safety, for our family's safety (from exposure and the Volturi).

But I didn't care that it made sense; I felt betrayed. They had all ganged up on me. They were forcing me to change my plans for Bella, and I had very specific and detailed plans for our future together. I was suddenly so enraged that I needed physical release, and I stormed out of the dining room and smashed the first piece of furniture I came in contact with. Then I heard her; I heard Bella asking Alice to change her then and there. I flew back into the room and screamed at Bella: "No, No, No. Are you insane?" Some part of me felt badly that she physically cringed away from me, obviously terrified of my anger and the violence of my reactions. Alice was uncomfortable too but not at my anger; she was afraid she didn't know what she was doing—and she didn't. She begged Bella for time to prepare herself. I was still so impossibly angry that I couldn't contain it; snarls escaped my throat. Bella, then, looked at Carlisle, and I couldn't help myself. I took her face in my hand and forced her to look at me while at the same time gesturing to Carlisle to stop, to let me deal with this. Carlisle ignored me and consented to her request. It couldn't be now; there had be some way to delay this, to give Bella time to change her mind, to convince her to change her mind.

I told them it didn't have to be now. That Bella couldn't simply disappear without significant complications for our family. If Bella was missing in the morning, Charlie would come here. I told them that we should wait until after graduation, until after Bella had moved out of Charlie's house. Carlisle agreed that such a delay made sense. Only when Bella consented, did I begin to relax. But I hurried to get her out of the house and back home. My mind scrambled to think of ways to delay her or to put her off entirely all the way home. What would she want? She would want me to do it. I knew that. She had wanted me to do it the night of the prom. She had begged me to do it other times. If I wouldn't do it, she would allow Alice or Carlisle to do it, but she wanted it to be me. What would she exchange for more time or to stay human for good? She feared aging, being older than me. What did she fear more than aging? She didn't fear the commitment of being with me forever, and then suddenly I focused on the idea of commitment—of marriage? She would fear early marriage. She would fear her parents' reactions. They had married young, and Renee had made Bella terrified of early marriage. And her fear of marriage was ironic because she was the one who first brought up the topic last year—the night after our first outing to the meadow, the night she knew I stayed with her. She would be uncomfortable with the whole prospect of it; she considered herself mature and practical. Marriage right out of high school would seem rash and impulsive, and there would be the gossip about why we were rushing into this.

With Bella in my arms, I jumped to the roof and into her room, setting her lightly on the bed, and then I paced back and forth trying to think about how to frame this the best way. She got annoyed and threw her quilt over her head, but I couldn't let her do that. I had lived without the sight of her face for long enough. I asked her if she could have anything, what that would be. She wasn't sure where I was going with this at first, but then she said it; she told me that she would want me to change her. I repressed my smile and asked her what she would exchange for that. The surprise and excitement on her face were obvious. She told me anything, and I asked for time. A year was all she was willing to give me explaining that if I was stuck in my teens forever than she would be too. So I pulled it out, the big heavy; I watched her face carefully as I told her I would do it if she would marry me first. Her eyes widened in shock and then alarm. I had accurately predicted her fear of early marriage. She tried to brush it off as a joke, but I could hear the terror in her voice as she struggled with the idea. She admitted being afraid of Renee's reaction. She bluffed and suggested Vegas, and I called her bluff. She moved from the year of time offer to eighteen months, but I held firm, and I smiled at her and unleashed by abilities on her. I let my eyes burn and I breathed in her face and begged her in my most silken voice. I watched as her breathing became erratic and she had to shake her head to clear it. I mentioned her ring, and in the panic that the idea of her engagement ring brought, she shouted, "No rings!" It was loud enough that Charlie had heard and was getting up. When I suggested that I should go, I heard her heart stop beating, and she begged me to stay. I hid in her closet.

Charlie checked on Bella and was embarrassed to find her wake and waiting for him. He wanted some explanations. Bella kept it close to the truth: cliff jumping, a misunderstanding over her death, my extreme reaction at the news, and Alice and Bella traveling to see me in person. Charlie hadn't known about the cliff jumping part, so that put Bella in a little bit more trouble. Though Charlie was certainly mad at Bella, he was still more angry with me. He warned Bella to stay away from me, and she fought with him on that point. She told him that our separation had been another misunderstanding, and she threatened to move out if Charlie didn't tolerate me. It pleased me to hear the confidence in Bella's voice as she spoke about us being together. After Charlie shut her door, I asked Bella not to fight with Charlie over me, and she joked with me about moving in with my family and then not needing to wait until graduation. I reflected on her eagerness of eternal damnation, and she surprised me by mentioning my reaction to seeing her in Volterra—when I thought that we both were dead and in heaven together—and asked me to be hopeful. Was it possible? Could there be heaven for a vampire? Could what I was going to let happen begrudgingly to Bella not damn her? Could we, after our existence as vampires, some how be together in heaven? I felt unsteady, and I took her face in my hands and looked into her eyes and murmured, "Forever." She agreed and kissed me. Her warmth was its own kind of heaven, and I let it envelope me.

It was pretty easy to re-enter our lives in Forks. Everything was back to normal at school. Bella was grounded and had specific visiting hours, and Charlie tried his best to be rude and unwelcoming toward me, but I didn't care so long as I got to be with Bella, and then we had the nights together—though Charlie didn't know about that. My main irritation was Bella's concern and attempts to contact Jacob Black. She avoided talking about him in front of me because of my reactions to his name—and I tried to be tolerant of him—he had protected her after all. One Saturday, when I picked Bella up from work, she was particularly worked up about Jacob not accepting her phone calls. I tried to explain that Jacob was staying away because he knew we were back, and that neither one of us could be reasonable about the other because of what we were, enemies. If we were forced together, only a fight could result, and someone would get hurt; I started to say killed, but Bella understood enough of what I meant and was angry. She encouraged me to get her home before she was late and in more trouble with Charlie.

The problem was, I realized as I got close enough to read Charlie's mind, that Bella already was in more trouble. Jacob had dropped off Bella's motorcycle, and Charlie was livid. Bella was furious at Jacob, but I could now hear Jacob too. He was waiting for us. He had a warning from the pack for me. Bella was stunned when I told her Jacob was waiting to talk to me. At first, she feared a fight, but I told her that wasn't Jacob's intention. Jacob was waiting for us. His form trembled as he fought the rage he felt at being near me. As we approached him, I angled Bella behind my body and away from Jacob. Bella wanted to know why Jacob had done such a thing. His answers were vague, but I knew he was just trying to get Bella grounded so that she couldn't see me. I told her what he thought, and he glared at me in response. She explained that she was grounded and that's why she hadn't visited him. His hard face broke for a moment and then was hard again. I translated his thoughts for her and told her that Jacob assumed that I wouldn't let her down to La Push. Jacob was even more annoyed at both having me read his thoughts and at me having extra abilities. He guessed that I knew the message he was to deliver, and I answered that I did. But I interrupted him. I had something to say to him too. I wanted to thank him for protecting Bella when I had failed to. It surprised him. I told him that I owed him and that I would return the favor. The favor that he wanted was for me to leave Forks again, and I told him that I would stay with Bella for as long as she wanted me. Bella interrupted then. She looked up at me, and with her eyes locked on mine, she told him she wouldn't be without me, confirmed that she was now in more trouble, and wanted to know what else he wanted. Her slavish longing for me filled me with triumph and happiness just as Jacob's recognition of it as such filled him with revulsion and jealousy.

Jacob answered that he was confirming with me some points of the treaty. I tried to end the conversation by saying that we hadn't forgotten the points of the treaty, but Bella asked about it. Jacob emphasized that the treaty said we could not bite a human. Bella suddenly got it; we couldn't transform a human into a vampire without breaking the treaty. She was angry, and she told Jacob that it was none of his business. He obviously had no idea Bella would consider joining us. The pain and horror in his mind were tremendous, and he started shaking in earnest. He struggled to calm himself, and Bella moved toward him, but I caught her firmly and pulled her back. She couldn't be near an enraged werewolf who was threatening to phase right in front of us. Jacob lashed out me that he would never hurt her, and I hissed in response.

Charlie's voice boomed in the distance. He wanted Bella home now. Quickly, I asked Jacob if the pack had found any traces of Victoria on their land. The last time was when Bella was away with me in Italy, but she got away. When I told him that we would take care of Victoria, he protested. The wolves were looking forward to hunting her. Then Charlie was screaming again. I tried to get Bella to leave. She hesitated. She wanted to comfort Jacob, but I kept her from doing so. I held her back. When she was committed to hurrying to face her father, I relaxed a little. Jacob was furiously angry that I had stopped Bella from touching him, and he was wildly jealous of me, that Bella would choose me over him. What he didn't know was that I was wildly jealous of him as well—he who had defended her in my absence, he who had comforted her and helped her when I left her so distraught. I kept my arm around Bella as we walked toward the house. She braced herself for Charlie's anger. She was brave; I had to give her that. "I'm here," I told her, and I wanted her to count on me, to need me to face the things that were unpleasant or that oppressed her.

After the motorcycle incident, I was only allowed to see Bella at school, during her further restricted visiting hours of seven to nine-thirty, and when I snuck back to spend the night in Bella's room. Charlie kept up his gruffness, but it didn't bother me. I had waited a hundred years for Bella, so Charlie I could put up with. Though Bella wanted to be transformed into a vampire right after graduation, I hoped that the marriage condition I had offered would delay her, and I set about having her apply to as many colleges as possible. I was obsessive about it. I brought applications for her to fill out all the time, paid the application fees, and sent them off. I forged her signature when necessary. Options—I wanted Bella to have other options than becoming a vampire. She was resistant. She only went along with filling out the applications because college away from Forks and Florida would be a cover story for her first year as a newborn vampire.

Though I had worried that her feelings toward me might have cooled after leaving her and endangering her with the Volturi, our bond seemed tighter than ever. She was now convinced that I truly loved her, and I marveled at the depth of the emotion in her face each evening when she opened up her door for me during her visiting hours. Her eyes would sparkle, her smile would turn radiant, and when I touched her, I got to hear the sudden intake of her breathe and her heart pound in response and feel her delightful warmth. The evening she got her acceptance to the University of Alaska Southeast, I brought her a Dartmouth application to fill out. Charlie asked me about my acceptances and grumbled when he realized Bella and I could both end up at University of Alaska Southeast. The subject of Bella's un-grounding came up, and I suggested that Alice had been dying for a city shopping partner. Charlie was against the idea until I said that Seattle with it sudden wave of violence (violence that my family suspected was the result of a newborn vampire) was not an appropriate destination for Bella and that Portland would be better. Charlie left us for his TV at that point.

Bella started filling out the Dartmouth application dutifully until she realized the school. Then she attempted to refuse, but I had the partially completed application off the table before she realized it, and I could supplement that with some of her previous essays, a forged signature, and the application fee. I wanted to go to Dartmouth next year, and I would do all in my power to make sure Bella could be there with me too. I would only be too happy to pay her tuition though the idea appalled her. We began arguing over the timing of her conversion. She tried to use the threat of Victoria as an impetus for her transformation. Though I insisted that there was no danger, she insisted that there was. I told her we didn't need to hurry, and she countered that she wanted to hurry.

To force her to think about the life she seemed so eager for, I pointed to Charlie's newspaper and the Seattle killing spree story that made Charlie so nervous about having her there, and I told her there was nothing funny about being a monster. It had not occurred to her that a vampire was behind the killing spree, but I confirmed that and explained why my family members were monitoring the situation. Suddenly she wanted assurances that she wouldn't be like that, that we wouldn't let her be like that. We started talking remote locations, Antarctica, Juneau, more remote Alaska and the game possibilities. I mentioned wolves in more remote Alaska, and Bella looked aghast. I quickly realized why, Jacob, and was annoyed. She was still upset, so I tried to apologize. Then it came, her argument for needing to see Jacob, her friend who was hurting (and who I knew loved her desperately and would do anything to win her from me because it had been all there in his thoughts in the forest). I distracted her temporarily by asking about how she could read _Wuthering Heights_ again. But she wouldn't be distracted.

She returned to Jacob. She claimed the werewolves were safe to be around, but a memory betrayed her, and I heard her heart accelerate as she remembered at least one dangerous incident while with them. I reflected on the power Bella seemed to have to lure danger to herself (and I included the werewolves as one of those dangers), and she surprised me by saying that she had nothing to do with it. The werewolves thought that our presence had called them back from extinction, and Bella seemed to think this theory was true as well. It didn't change anything. I would not let Bella be near werewolves, not while I was around and could protect her. Again she tried to convince me of how much she owed Jacob, especially during the time I had left her. I felt an overpowering wave of guilt as she mentioned it because I knew how badly I had hurt her, but I wouldn't budge on this. I would not stand for Bella to be in danger. I tried to explain, to tell her how much I loved her and how I couldn't bear the idea of anything threatening her again and that meant no werewolves. She argued with me further, but I was confident that I could keep her away from them.

The next day at lunch, Alice had a vision of Victoria returning that weekend and of her trying to get past the werewolves. Her expression was blank for only a few minutes. Bella was immediately alert and curious about what Alice had seen. But I didn't want Bella thinking about the vision or knowing about it. I tried to think of some way to get Bella away from Forks, away from the danger. I knew I was overacting, but I couldn't help it, not when it came to Bella. I pretended Alice's episode was just Alice zoning out or needing a nap. Alice and I exchanged a brief loaded glance that Bella saw. Bella waited for us to be alone so she could ask me about what Alice had seen, so I carefully measured our movements so that we were never really alone. I even offered to help Mike Newton with his car. After we dropped Alice off at the house, I drove Bella home. I was still scheming, and Bella was waiting for me to talk. We went up to her room, and she turned on her computer. While she waited for it to warm up, I decided to distract her, so I used my eyes and my breath to render her helpless, and I furthered my advantage by kissing her forcefully. She was dizzy by the time I released her and had to shake her head a few times to clear it. Bella read her e-mail from her mother and sent her back an answer. I asked her to send Renee my regards.

While Bella was finishing up her e-mail, I suddenly saw the car stereo Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie had given Bella for her eighteenth birthday. It had been butchered. I would need to replace it to spare their feelings. The airline tickets were there too. They were perfect; I would take Bella to Florida this weekend and get her away from the fight, and hopefully Bella would never be the wiser. I pulled them out and announced that they were about to expire. I was very, very careful with the expressions on my face and the tones in my voice. It was imperative that Bella didn't know about what was coming; I didn't want her to do anything reckless, and she was sure to be stubborn about things if she fully understood what was about to happen. So I played it up. I suggested we go to Florida to celebrate her freedom. Bella was hesitant; she knew it would infuriate Charlie and didn't want to fight with him. But I could see the lure of the temptation I had presented to her. It had been so long since she had seen her mother under pleasant circumstances; she wanted to go. Only her concern over her father's anger pushed the happy prospect from her mind. I added my own boredom to the reasons for us to go and let it drop. Charlie was the hang up. It occurred to me that if I brought up the topic with Charlie, Charlie's reaction would be negative, of course, but just that negativity would get Bella's back up, and she would fight with him until she was able to go.

Bella changed the subject by asking about Alice's vision at lunch. I lied smoothly and told her she had seen Jasper in an unexpected place. We went down stairs to do homework, and I helped Bella cook dinner. Charlie enjoyed his dinner and talked about his day with Bella while I occupied myself with the TV news. The one thing that irritated me was Charlie mentioning them being invited to a small party at the Blacks to watch baseball. I wouldn't allow Bella to attend such a function. Luckily going to Florida would serve the double duty of getting Bella away from the fight and a werewolf party. As Bella was going the dishes, I chose my words carefully. I informed Charlie that Bella had been given plane tickets to Florida for her birthday last year and that they were about to expire. I could feel Bella's distress that I was bringing this up tonight, but I continued. At first, Charlie was enthusiastic about the idea, but as soon as he realized that I would be accompanying Bella, he became unreasonable, just as I predicted. Bella immediately became defensive, and she won. Charlie backed down; he couldn't stop Bella from going to see her mother, her primary guardian. After Bella finished with the dishes, she informed Charlie that we were going out briefly and would stay close. I knew she wanted a chance to be alone with me to ask why I had interfered, so when the questions began in my car, I was prepared, and again I lied smoothly. I told her she had been talking about her mother in her sleep, so I knew she wanted to see Renee, and I was just helping her a bit. I played dumb to her not wanting to fight with Charlie, and I assured her that the party at Billy's had nothing to do with the trip (the main concern was Victoria's impending return with Billy's party a nice consolation prize). I knew she was still annoyed at me, but when she requested to go to my house because she hadn't seen my mother in a while, I smiled and sealed the Florida trip by commenting on how pleased Esme would be about that when she knew we were going to be using her gift. Bella, then, surrendered her resistance.

On the way home, as we got closer to her house, I had to fight my amusement when I heard Charlie's thoughts. The idea of his daughter spending several nights with me even under the supervision of her mother had made Charlie feel the need to discuss "adult" relationships and responsibility. Bella would be humiliated the whole time, as would Charlie; he was clearly very uncomfortable about talking to her on this subject. As I dropped her off, I promised to return later when her father was asleep. I had gotten home and was about to play Jasper at chess when Alice had another vision and called. Bella had disappeared. It could only mean one thing; that she had gone to see one or more of the werewolves, and I knew which werewolf she would risk my anger for. I was out the door immediately.

I easily removed the distributor cap from Bella's truck and waited for her to find me there. Bella bounded out the door and into the truck, enthusiasm radiating from her at the prospect of her visit. She looked confused when her truck wouldn't start, and then she noticed me in the cab. Bella turned sullen and quiet, and I filled the silence by explaining Alice's vision and our theories on why Alice couldn't see werewolves or her when she was with them. I knew she was angry with me. I told her I would have her truck ready in the morning if didn't want to ride with me and that she could close her window if she didn't want me to spend the night.

I struggled to appear quiet and thoughtful, to keep my voice under control and muted. But I was seething. I was exasperated that she would risk herself with Jacob, and I was blindly jealous of the eagerness she displayed at the idea of seeing him before she knew I was there. I wanted him dead for inspiring that kind of response in her. She was _mine_, and I didn't want her to feel strong emotions for any other guy (except perhaps her father). I tried to wrap my mind around these powerful reactions. The jealousy I felt toward Mike Newton, Tyler, and Eric, our classmates, had surprised me with its fierceness, but I knew that they were human boys who couldn't compete against my vampire gifts and other assets in a competition with me over Bella's affections. Jacob Black was different. He was more than human, and I had left her alone for months, and she had turned to him for comfort. She had bonded with him, and he with her. I absolutely loathed him.

She left me in anger. I watched and listened as she slammed her window shut; the action caused me stabbing pain, and I wondered if it was possible to loose her after all, if after all my scheming, she could reject me. Then to my intense relief, she reopened the window. Even her intense anger didn't dim her love for me and my hold over her. The werewolf thing was going to be a problem, and I didn't know what to do about it.

Though we were at a stand off on the werewolf thing, the trip to Florida distracted Bella. Though I felt fierce regret at missing the hunt for Victoria, I was confident that my family could handle her. Bella suspected nothing was wrong in Forks when we left Friday or when we returned Sunday night. It was fascinating to spend time with Bella's mother; she had such an interesting perspective on the world. She saw things differently than most people, and she saw things about my relationship with Bella that Charlie had been obvious to. She saw the intensity between us and both marveled at it and was cautious of it. I realized that by the end of the weekend Renee was coming to terms with the commitment she felt between us. Renee would not object to Bella marrying me as Bella had feared. Renee thought of her daughter as a very different person from herself, and she knew her daughter's temperament. When Bella made up her mind about something, which she did carefully and thoughtfully, she was wholly committed to that decision. Renee would not see Bella's decision to get married as rash and impulsive, and she would respect her daughter's choice, but that didn't mean she like it. Renee had reservations; something about me unnerved her. What I had to hide was just how much I was influencing Bella's choices, but Renee couldn't see that in the brief time we were with her or from her usual long-distance relationship with Bella. Before we left, Renee took Bella for a walk to talk about her concerns about our relationship; when they returned, I could tell that Renee wasn't entirely satisfied with the conversation and was unsure of some of her conclusions. Bella must have been dismissive, unwilling to reveal much, even to her mother.

Bella was quiet and thoughtful on the way home from the airport. When I asked her about it, she said she was thinking about her mother, our visit, and how her mother saw things other people didn't. I let her drift in her own thoughts. After I stopped the car, I bent down to kiss her and teasingly called her Sleeping Beauty. I stiffened on the way to the door, and Bella noticed. I tried to explain that Charlie was happy to see her, but I left out that Jacob had been calling Charlie all day wanting to talk to her and that this fact both puzzled and amused Charlie. We were barely in the door and through with exchanging greetings when the telephone rang. Bella had a short conversation with Jacob which left her confused and anxious. I kept my face smooth, but I watched her carefully as she tried to understand Jacob's overwhelming desire to hear her voice and his curiosity about her attendance at school the following day. It irritated me intensely to see how absorbed she was in trying to figure out what was wrong with a dog. Suddenly she froze in the middle of the kitchen, and she dropped the food in her hand. I caught it and threw it onto the kitchen counter. I encircled her in my arms and asked her what was wrong, reveling the aura of her warmth. She told me her conclusions. She thought he was checking to see if she was still human. She thought we would have to leave Forks to make the transformation, that we would never be able to come back. I tried to comfort her. Then, Charlie groused about dinner, and Bella distracted herself by fixing it.

When I got home that night to wait out the time before Charlie would be safely asleep and I could return to Bella, my family was there to tell me about their efforts to catch Victoria and the confrontation between Paul (the werewolf) and Emmett. No one had been hurt, and Carlisle and Jasper had been able to calm things down. The presence of the werewolves was complicating matters since we were opponents not allies and Victoria was able to use our conflict to protect herself very effectively. We would just need to keep up our vigilance and be extra careful in close proximity to the werewolves. It didn't seem like a very satisfying battle plan to any of us. Alice was eager to get me alone. She knew, as did the rest of my family, that I had asked Bella to marry me, and she wondered if there had been any progress during the trip. I told her what I had heard in Renee's thoughts—that she would respect Bella's decision if she decided to marry me. Alice beamed at the news.

I picked Bella up the next day; nothing seemed unusual, but as we got closer to school, I realized that Jacob was waiting at school for us, so he could talk to me (again for the pack) in a place I couldn't make a scene. I asked Bella if she would do something for me if I asked her to. My sudden tension and the open-ended question made her wary, and she was non-committal. I asked her to stay in the car until I came back for her, but before I could get her to promise, she saw Jacob waiting for us. I tried to explain that he had called last night to ask about school because he wanted a place to talk to me. She refused to stay in the car, so we went to meet Jacob together. When we were close enough, I pushed Bella behind my body, so that I was between her and Jacob. Kids were staring; we were attracting attention. I tried to cut the conversation short; I already knew what he was there to say. Bella still didn't know about Victoria's return or the Paul/Emmett situation, and I wanted to keep it that way. There was no reason for her to be scared, but Jacob stubbornly refused to let it go. He suddenly realized that I had kept the whole situation from Bella. From the halting conversation between Jacob and me, Bella started putting it all together, and I was murderously angry. Jacob would ruin everything. I faced him with my rage and fury contorting my features.

Bella's gasps snapped me back to my senses. I held her tightly and tried to comfort her; her warmth helped to calm me further. Jacob insisted that Bella had the right to know what was going on. He claimed she was tougher than I thought, and he reminded me that she had been through worse first with his words and then with his memories. He let them flood his mind. The first was the way Bella looked the night I had left her when Sam finally found her early the next morning—the night she chased after me aimlessly through the woods and spent a good part of it curled into a ball of suffering and agony. Jacob had seen this image in Sam's mind through their pack connection. It was appalling. The next was the way Bella had looked when she had first come to Jacob's garage with her motorcycle scheme. She was barely herself, more zombie than Bella. It too was horrible. The last was of the pathetic way that Bella had clutched hold of herself in an effort to stop the pain she felt from ripping her apart—which was like a mirror image of myself balled in a fetal position wallowing in the agony of being separated from her. I had no words. It was beyond pain to see these images. He knew that, and he was enjoying intensely the anguish they brought me. Bella became alarmed at my distress, and I struggled to control myself and hide my agony.

Suddenly, I knew the principal was on his way, so I tried to end our conversation and get Bella to class. Jacob called me overprotective and invited Bella to visit him. At first, his tone was mocking, but then it changed to pleading. I kept my arms around Bella and kept my face impassive with great effort. His begging worked, Bella moved to escape my arms, but I wouldn't let her. The principal arrived and started questioning me and Jacob. Jacob left defiantly, and after a few more warning comments from the principal, I was able to get Bella to class. In class, she wanted to know the whole story about the weekend confrontation, so we passed a note back and forth. I told her the essentials and told her I would tell her when it happened again.

Bella's immediate response to the return of Victoria was that we should turn her into a vampire, but my family members and I all assured her that wasn't necessary, graduation would be soon enough. I also reminded her that I would be happy to be the one to turn her, if she would meet my condition. Emmett and Jasper were going hunting for the weekend, and I was to join them. Alice had seen no problems with this, and Bella was insistent that I go; Saturday she was supposed to work and then write out graduation announcement with Angela. We were there in the park; we had started hunting, and my phone rang. I hadn't turned it off. It was Alice; Bella had disappeared. All I could think was, "That girl is going to be the death of me." Jazz and Emmett asked if I needed help, but I told them to stay and hunt. There was no point in ruining this for them as well. Emmett laughed out loud at my panic and annoyance. He was glad I loved Bella and glad that her mind was closed to me. He backtracked when I growled at him. He hoped she was in no real danger and that she didn't die, but he admitted the fierce enjoyment he took from Bella being able to outmaneuver me when my mind reading usually let me outmaneuver everyone else. Even Jasper snickered. They thought Bella was a good, humbling experience for me. Nice! My brothers were making fun of me, and I had a rogue girlfriend out with a werewolf. I wanted to kill someone.

I was so angry when I got back to Forks that I paced the Quileute line. I could smell where Bella's and Jacob's scents had most recently crossed the boundary. I fought the overwhelming desire to go after her to make sure she was okay. Again, I was angry at her for putting herself at risk, and I was livid at the idea of them together beyond what I could see or what Alice could see. The fact that Bella had succeeded in getting to see Jacob this time made my fury and jealousy flash even stronger. I called Alice off and on to see if she could see anything. Of course, I knew that I was annoying her. She would call me as soon as she saw something, but she knew my distress and was generously tolerant of my calls. I thought the time waiting would dull my anger, but it only seemed to inflame it. I fought the idea of crossing the boundary again and again, but my mind raced and I imagined Jacob loosing control with her and hurting her or even killing her accidentally, and though I tried to suppress them, there were other images of them talking, of them enjoying each other's company, and of what Jacob wanted from Bella. I felt nearly schizophrenic with worry and anger, and then the phone rang. Alice had seen Bella arriving at Angela's. I ran to the car and waited. I heard the truck before I saw it. As soon as she past me, I was on her tail, inches away. I would follow her all the way to Angela's. I knew it was menacing and threatening to follow her like that, but I couldn't help it. I was so angry and worried, and she had to know. I hoped she wouldn't stop because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself. I needed time to know she was safely way from the werewolves and away from Jacob before I could trust myself to talk to her and to be near her physically.

After I left Bella at Angela's, I took my car home and went for a run. I had to deflect the emotions that I felt, reign them in, control them some how. Running wouldn't tire me out, but the forest would distract me and running as fast as I could would provide a measure of satisfaction that I hoped would help as well. So I ran and ran, and it worked some. Bella was safe. That was really the most important consideration, but she had disobeyed me, and she had proven more resourceful than I had given her credit for. Bella was safe, I kept telling myself. I would just have to be more careful, more thorough in my plans to keep her away from the werewolves. Ruefully, I thought of Emmett's comments; Bella certainly kept me guessing.

I was waiting in her room when she got back from Angela's. I had calmed down significantly, but I was still angry and tense. I waited against the wall for her to come in. She entered cautiously and shut the door behind her. I didn't move but just watched for a while. She tried to lighten the atmosphere by telling me she was alive and that "no harm [had been] done." I responded to that by telling her how close I had come to crossing the boundary. That alarmed her; she told me I couldn't. She said the wolves would love a fight, and I suggested that I wouldn't mind one either. She tried to argue that Jacob wasn't dangerous, but I didn't agree. Finally, she walked over to me and put her arms around me. Though she reeked like the dog, seeing her there, feeling her against me, her sweet warmth radiating through me, it was easier to relax, and I put my arms around her. When she looked into my dark eyes, she realized that I hadn't hunted. She scolded me, and we were then back to arguing about her and the wolves. We were getting nowhere. I was adamant that the wolves were a risk, and she was just as adamant that they weren't. She asked if I was jealous, and I hinted that jealousy was a factor; I just didn't go into how big a factor. I told her the only thing I cared about was her safety, and I used my eyes to take away her other doubts about my sincerity on this topic. She tried to declare herself a neutral country in the whole werewolf vs. vampire dispute, and I let it go for now.

Of course, bagging out on the hunting trip meant that I had a trip to make up. I was going with my brothers and Carlisle, Friday and Saturday. I enlisted Alice to help babysit Bella and arranged for Bella to have a two-day sleepover with the Cullen girls. We moved the trip up a day since Bella had been so inventive on the previous Saturday. The plan was that Alice would pick Bella up from work on Thursday evening and take her to and from school on Friday. Saturday morning I would be home and could see Bella after Alice had taken her home in keeping with our story. Esme had cleared it with Charlie, and Alice had Bella's essentials for the "sleep over." I knew Bella would be mad at me for having Alice hold her hostage, but I wasn't going to let her put herself at risk, and if this is what came down to, this is how it would be: lock down every time I went away. We had rearranged my room for Bella's visit. I didn't want Bella to be uncomfortable, so Alice helped me picked out a canopy bed, and that now occupied the central space in my room. Since my hunting needs would reoccur, I hoped that this experiment worked, and Bella could spend more of my hunting trips here with Alice, Esme, and Rosalie, where the bed would get more use and Alice could fully earn her bribe, a yellow 911 Turbo Porsche, like the one she coveted in Italy.

Hunting was great. I felt confident that Bella was safe with my sisters and mother. I even had my phone turned off. Though I was always a little anxious away from Bella, that anxiety didn't distract me enough to annoy my brothers and Carlisle, and I actually enjoyed myself. The mountain lions were prevalent, and we all found predators to sate our thirsts. Homecoming gave me more surprises than I had expected. Bella's mud-spattered, red motorcycle was in our garage. Emmett howled with laughter at the sight of it, and Jasper and Carlisle both grinned and shook their heads. Alice was anxious and worried that I would be furious with her, and Rosalie was still thinking over parts of the conversation she had with Bella in my absence. What a mess. I didn't know how to feel. I was angry and jealous, frustrated and humiliated, embarrassed and curious. I was angry with Bella and jealous of Jacob. It appeared that I couldn't keep her safe. That she would risk her life to do what she wanted to do, to be with him as well as with me. Rationally, I knew that she was friends with him, that she felt she owed him for the support he had given her when I was gone. But I begrudged him that support, that time with her alone. And I knew his mind; he said that he was her friend, but he loved her desperately. I was frustrated and humiliated that I could not contain this stubborn, pig-head, human girl! I was embarrassed that I was making Alice feel so badly when she had done nothing but try to support me in my commitment to this ridiculous relationship, and I was curious about whether Rosalie's desperate longing for children would have any impact on Bella's decision to stay human. Of course, that could blow up in my face too; I couldn't exactly help Bella have children.

Esme came and sat with me while I tried to weigh through all the conflict in my mind. She cautioned me. Attempting to control all aspects of Bella's life was dangerous. If Jacob was so important to her, perhaps I needed to find a way to let her have that relationship. I didn't like the idea, but I was worried that I was driving her to extreme behavior to successfully see Jacob and that in doing so, she could get hurt. It also occurred to me that by refusing to allow the relationship, I could damage the relationship between Bella and me. Of course, I preferred the idea of Jacob Black disappearing from Bella's life altogether, but I wasn't willing for Jacob to be a source of friction between us. The main complication was that Jacob would manipulate every opportunity he had with her to get her to choose him. Alice joined us. I apologized to her and thanked her for all her help. Then I asked her what she saw of Bella's future. She said that she saw more strongly than ever Bella with me and as part of our family as a human and then as an immortal. I asked Alice if she could see Bella with Jacob, but she couldn't. Alice agreed with Esme. Though we all found the attraction Bella had to a dog mystifying, Alice reminded me of how Charlie had described Bella after we left, and I was haunted by the recent memories that Jacob had shared with me—the zombie-like images of Bella after we left, in ways more painful that the images I had of Bella tortured by James and lying broken on the floor of the ballet studio, because I had done this to her; I had to reconcile myself to the fact that I had made Bella and Jacob's relationship necessary. Now I had to live with it. Bella's pain helped me smooth out my anger and all the other negative emotions I felt. She was asleep in my room, and I would compose myself and think of her happiness and join her. Who knew, if I could convince her of my acceptance of Jacob, perhaps it would strengthen our bond, and I wanted our bond strengthened. It seemed more important to me than ever that she agree to marry me. Jacob would have to concede if she married me; he would have to maintain a respectful distance if we were formally bonded that way. I saw no other way of distancing them that would earn Bella's approval.

I composed myself and thought of how much I loved her before I walked into my room. The bed was bare, and my anxiety flared until I saw her on the couch with the comforter wrapped around her. I fought from laughing out loud; she was as stubborn as ever. The bed had obviously irritated her. Very gently, I picked her up and moved her to the bed. She seemed to have made the transfer without waking. I lay beside her and stroked her hair and inhaled her scent. Bella was all that mattered to me. I concentrated on thinking about her and only her. Only a little while later, she stirred and rolled over, then she rolled back, and I could tell that she was awake. I apologized for waking her and waited. I expected her to be angry at me; she had left me a phone message to that effect when she first realized she had been kidnapped. But she reached out for me and moved toward me. I pulled her closer to me, hugging her to my chest. Her lips sought mine, and then we were kissing. I laughed, explaining that I thought she was angry with me. We bantered back and forth briefly, before I decided to show her the advantages of the bed. I traced my hand down her body all the way to her calf and then pulled her leg around me. I heard her breathe catch; I smiled and asked what she didn't like about the bed, but I didn't wait for her answer. I rolled over and pulled her on top of me and held her so that I could kiss her along her throat. Her breathing came out in gasps now. She managed to choke out that the bed was unnecessary. To convince her otherwise, I shifted again, and this time held my body over her, carefully, and her hearted raced as it responded to my body pressed on top of hers. I laughed softly and kissed her.

She asked if I had changed my mind, and I knew what she meant. I had always limited her conscious participation in our sexual intimacy, and now I had her on a bed and was positioning her ways we had not experimented with much previously. She had no idea how much I wanted to further our experiments, but I feared for her safety in such scenarios. If I lost control, it could go horribly wrong, unspeakably wrong. And part of me hoped that she would want to so badly, that it would help me get her to agree to marry her. I would insist on marriage before a honeymoon, but I fantasized about sex with Bella all the time, that it was possible with her still human, that she would like it as much as I felt sure that I would. Of course, I had conducted my own experiments with orgasms aided greatly by Bella's presence, but she wasn't exactly aware of that, and I was sure that together, both conscious, it could be better than I had already experienced and even better than I imagined—if I could find enough control. Her heart betrayed her new excitement at the prospect of this bed and our relations, and I signed and told her not to get carried away.

She told me it was too late and that she was already carried away. I smiled, glad that she liked the bed. I reminded her that I enforced the limitations on our relationship because it was too dangerous otherwise. We teased each other back and forth on this point until she accused me of putting her in danger of "spontaneous combustion" from the unfulfilled passion I was keeping her from through my limitations; I pushed her away to protect her from exploding, but I was pleased. I was driving her crazy, and she was getting as hungry for me as I was for her. We joked again about self-control when we were together—apologizing for giving each other the wrong impression, and then I apologized to her for making her angry by having Alice hold her hostage, and I told her I wouldn't do again. She told me I had her permission to hold her hostage any time, and I considered that. Then she apologized for making me angry, and I made it clear that she didn't need to. I told her I would "be more reasonable" about the werewolves and "trust her judgment." She was impressed, and I smiled to myself; I confessed that I was unwilling to let Jacob come between us. I asked her if she had plans to return, and she hesitated. She explained that she had told Jacob right after graduation she hoped to be transformed and that he had taken that information badly. He had wished she was dead.

I froze. I had known seven excruciating months without Bella in my life and I had known what it felt to have thought that I had lost her forever. Anyone wishing her harm or death was despicable to me; I hated him for telling her that, but I knew his words caused her pain, so I pulled her tightly to my chest and told her how sorry I was. My words surprised her, and I tried to explain that I couldn't be happy about anything that caused her pain. I froze again, as I thought about my anger. She noticed, of course, and asked me about it. I hesitated, and then told her that I wanted to kill him for telling her that. We moved from my self-control issues toward Jacob to our self-control issues together until I encouraged her to go back to sleep. She brought up her conversation with Rosalie, and I froze again, concerned about the flood of information Rosalie had shared with her and what she had made of it. She completely surprised me because her questions focused on Tanya and her family. She was jealous of me, I was shocked to realize. She asked if anyone in Denali had shown an attraction for me. I was embarrassed because Tanya had. I hesitated, and Bella threatened to go ask Alice about it. I held her firmly in my arms, so she couldn't leave me, couldn't even move away from me. I tried to distract her, but her heart started racing, and I realized with a surge of delight that Bella's jealousy of me was strangely comforting. I tried to explain that to her and to reassure her that she was "my only love." I hummed her lullaby to encourage her to go back to sleep, and with satisfaction, I felt her nestle closer to me in our golden bed.

Alice drove Bella home in the morning in keeping with the slumber party cover story. I had walked them to my car, of course, and before I left the garage I caught sight of Bella's motorcycle again, and though the idea of her on a motorcycle worried me, the idea of her doing this activity with Jacob alone bothered me more. They were angry at each other after all, so it might be quite opportune for me to replace Jacob in this aspect of her life. With those thoughts in mind, in the time I needed to wait before meeting Bella, I made arrangements for a motorcycle of my own and a few accessories for Bella that would at least give her some degree of protection on her own motorcycle. Then I left to meet her.

When I got out of the car at Bella's house, I caught the scent strongly and struggled to contain my panic. Someone, a vampire, had been here during the night. I rang the doorbell and waited. When Bella saw my face, she knew something was wrong. I told her not to move and flew through the house following the scent. It was strongest in Bella's bedroom; that did not make me happy. I returned to Bella and put my arms around her; her warmth calmed me, and I steered her to the far end of the kitchen. I tried to explain that someone had been there. One of the Volturi was my best guess; it certainly wasn't a scent that I recognized, so it couldn't be Victoria, and it was male. Bella was visibly shaken; a vampire had been in her house with her sleeping human father. I needed to talk to Alice, but I wasn't leaving Bella alone. I pulled her toward the door; when she objected about Charlie, I called Emmett and explained things. Emmett and Jasper agreed to come and sweep the woods and keep an eye on Charlie. After that, Bella let me lead her to the car and take her to the house.

I was furious. Alice was supposed to be watching the Volturi, Bella, and Victoria. How did she not see this coming? I began to grill her on who had been in Bella's room and why she hadn't seen him. My panic clouded my reason. When Bella told me to "stop it," I realized that I was being unnecessarily harsh with Alice, again, and apologized. After that we all began thinking the situation through, trying to think of how this could make sense and who was behind it. We could come up with nothing definite. Bella again suggested that it was time for her to become a vampire, but we all reassured her that we would stick to the graduation plan and just be more "careful."

I took Bella home after that. Bella was annoyed that she wouldn't be turned and that everyone would be "inconvenienced" by watching her and Charlie more carefully. Charlie had misunderstood the tension between us before we left as us fighting and continued to see it that way when we returned. Bella got Charlie his dinner, and he waited for me to be in the room before telling Bella that Jacob had called her again. Charlie was a sketch. With someone as stubborn as Bella, didn't he realize that his objections to me would make me all the more appealing to her and that his obvious preference for Jacob would automatically make him less appealing to her than I was? Charlie was my unwilling but forceful ally, and I felt a fondness for him that he didn't deserve. I left at the regular time, and then waited to return.

Knowing some vampire had been in her bedroom, I came back earlier than normal. I just wanted her in my arms, to be with her and know that she was safe. She tried to hide her tension, but I knew it affected her. I sung her to sleep and wrapped her securely in my arms, feeling her sweet warmth seep through me. I felt intense regret and guilt— my world and I always seemed to put her in danger. I wondered again if Jacob wouldn't be better for her, but the idea repulsed me on so many levels. What was this new danger? We didn't have enough information. I was so anxious about her that I couldn't effectively fantasize over her. Instead I stroked her hair, her face, her shoulders where they were exposed by the blankets, and inhaled her scent. She murmured my name and told me she loved me so—and her words eased some of my guilt because despite everything, I knew she loved me.

Charlie was off fishing early in the morning, so Bella and I got to spend the morning in the house alone. She told me that she was going to call and forgive Jacob for what he had said about wishing her dead. I knew she would; she didn't hold things against people. I knew that as well as anyone. I was jealous, but I was determined to not let it show. I hung back as Bella talked to Jacob, but I moved closer as Bella stumbled over how to explain the new development, the vampire in her room. Inspiration struck me, and I held out my hand for the phone, asking Bella to let me talk to Jacob. She was hesitant but relinquished the phone to me. I tried to explain to Jacob that someone, a vampire, had been at Bella's. The pack had not crossed a new scent. I tried to explain to Jacob that with the current hostile situation, I would be more protective of Bella than normal. Jacob tried to convince me that Bella could be safe also on the reservation under the protection of the werewolves, and he suggested renegotiating some boarders to protect Bella better. He also suggested coming to watch Bella while I followed the scent instead of leaving her with my family. Then he could also follow the scent, so the pack would know it through his experience. I didn't like Jacob, but I realized that all we both cared about was Bella's safety, and I was surprised to realize that I felt a softening toward him. I gave the phone back to Bella and allowed her to finish her conversation with him.

Bella was annoyed that Jacob and I didn't feel comfortable in the same room, so I tried to explain it was just "easier" for both of us this way. Though I understood that Jacob carried a minimum of clothing with him when he was in wolf form and the practical reasons behind this, it annoyed the hell out of me that he was so often topless, and topless around Bella infuriated me even more. Before I left her with Jacob, I couldn't resist saturating her hair with my scent. I knew that Jacob would take what advantage he could when he was alone with her, and I was happy to deter him in any way I could. I carefully breathed into her hair before I left her, laughing as I went. Her hair would reek like vampire, and it would bother him. Bella didn't understand what I was doing, and I hoped that she wouldn't get it. I swept the trail of Bella's stalking vampire. I didn't gain any new knowledge to add to what Emmett and Jasper had first reported. I returned to Bella's house and over heard the last part of Jacob's conversation about her asking "for permission" to attend a werewolf bonfire. Then Jacob left, and I re-entered the house. A knife covered in Jacob's blood lay on the counter, and a flash of images crossed my mind about what had happed to cause such an outcome. I asked Bella whether they had fought, and she was chagrinned that she hadn't cleaned up better.

I had picked up their mail and was pleased to hand her what I was sure was a Dartmouth acceptance. She stared at me in disbelief and asked me what I had "done" to get her in. I played this very carefully. I told her that she might enjoy "a semester or two of college," and I asked her to imagine how proud her parents would be if she went to Dartmouth. I knew that the images were as tantalizingly seductive as the image of going to Florida and seeing Renee had been a couple of weeks ago. She wouldn't have thought of the images on her own, but once I had placed them there in her mind, she would return to them. The images were very alluring. Damn, I was good!

She shrugged it off, and I didn't fight her because I knew she would come back to images herself. She startled me with her next line of questioning. She suggested that Alice had tidied her room when she retrieved Bella's toiletries and pajamas because Bella couldn't find some of her things. I was confused for a moment, and then I stiffened. All the things that were missing were things heavy with Bella's scent; the visitor had taken Bella's scent. Why? I explained my conclusions and promised I would figure it out. Bella pressed herself into my chest and told me she knew I would.

Carlisle called then about the murder spree in Seattle and our conclusions about newborn vampires as the cause. I told him about Bella's stolen things, but he didn't know what to make of that information either. I explained our concerns about the newborn vampires in Seattle to Bella, and suggested that Jasper would be very helpful in these circumstances. Bella asked me more about that, but Jasper's story, like all my family members' stories, was personal. I intruded into their heads too often to tell their stories for them unless I was invited to, like when Carlisle gave me permission to tell his story to Bella.

I shifted the conversation. Jacob had told Bella to get my permission, and I asked her about what she wanted to do. I pretended that she didn't need my permission. I wasn't her father, and I suggested that she ask Charlie whether she could go to La Push for the bonfire. Charlie quickly gave it to her. Despite my assurances that she didn't need it, she still asked for my permission again and accepted my "precautions" easily. I realized then that I had more authority over her than her own father.

Before we left to take Bella to the drop off site on the border of La Push, Bella expressed her desire to take her motorcycle back to Jacob's and leave it there. I was annoyed. My motorcycle had arrived, and taking her motorcycle back to Jacob's did not fit my plan of making this something we did together. We walked to the garage, and I was curious to see her reaction to my bike. Instead of pleasure, I could see that she was uncomfortable. I had over done it. My bike was too much more sophisticated than hers. She feared that she couldn't keep up and that I would always be more worried about keeping her safe than riding for my own pleasure. I tried to hide my disappointment. Bella's and Jacob's bikes were more evenly matched, and he was willing to let her be more reckless than I was. My jealousy flared, but I thought of how much I wanted her to be happy and how much I had to make up for, and I let it go. She could have this with Jacob if she had to. There were the accessories, however, and they would give her a reminder of me while she did this with him. Though she resisted the helmet, I smiled at her and told her I only wanted to keep her safe, and she relented. The jacket, I thought, looked hot or rather Bella in a black, leather, biker jacket was very hot, and I told her so. She conceded to both accessories, and I encircled her in my arms and kissed her enthusiastically, enjoying the feel of her warmth pressed against me. Her helplessness, her vulnerability, was so attractive; it triggered my male instincts to dominate her, protect her, and possess her completely. I hated the fact that I was delivering her to the dog for the night; relinquishing my claims on her for those few hours was painful, but I put her bike in my car, and we got ready to go.

Jacob was waiting for us at the boundary line. His thoughts irritated me; he was too eager to be with her for my liking. I made sure Bella had the cell phone, so she could call me when she was ready for me to pick her up. I got her bike and accessories out of my car. Before I let her go, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her fiercely. I needed her scent, her warmth, and the urgency of our kiss to sustain me through our time apart, and the jealous fury that I felt in Jacob's thoughts as he watched me kiss her helped too. I chuckled under my breath and released her reluctantly. I watched Bella walk the bike and her new stuff past the boundary. Over the line, Jacob moved eagerly to help her and then to embrace her in a huge hug. It was more than I could take; I was in the car in an instant speeding away as fast as I could, my jealousy and fury barely contained.

I desperately needed a distraction, so once home, I decided to hunt. It was good to run through the forest. I brought down a deer and fed. The violence of the action helped to sate my fury as much as the blood sated my thirst. "Sharing" Bella with Jacob was going to be difficult. I had the satisfaction of knowing the idea was just as difficult for Jacob as it was for me. How could I use this situation to my advantage? Jacob had far less control that I did. That was it. I would be flawlessly polite and gracious about Jacob. She cared about him. Her happiness was all that mattered. It would be excruciating to hide my true feelings about their relationship, but I would do it. I would stand in contrast to Jacob. He would be angry and rude to me, and I would be polite and self-sacrificing. She would admire my response and be annoyed at his. I could use this situation to my advantage. And realistically, I didn't have to share her all that much longer. Graduation was nearly here, and she could take the Carlisle option, or she could marry me and I would change her. Either status, vampire or married, would mean that I wouldn't need to share Bella with Jacob Black.

Although I had been appalled by the idea of Bella as one of us, as a soulless vampire, I realized that there were other parts of my mind that longed for it. Her scent wouldn't burn in my throat the way it did now, and I wouldn't need to be so careful with her. Our intimacy could be fully explored the way I imagined it and fantasized about it. I wouldn't need to protect her so obsessively. She would learn to protect herself in time, and we wouldn't need to be separated, ever. The realization was jarring. I preferred to be the one who changed her, but Carlisle had changed most of us. None of us felt we had the restraint to do it ourselves. But I had already tasted Bella's blood and stopped, and now we were much more tightly bound. I knew I could stop. Suddenly, part of me was eager for graduation and what it might bring.

I was surprised and slightly alarmed when it was Jacob's voice on the phone and not Bella's, but he explained that she had fallen asleep and he was going to bring her to the boundary. I was pacing just beyond the line when they pulled up to Jacob's side of the line. I could hear their conversation from the distance as well as Jacob's thoughts. Bastard! He was trying to figure out how to use the "sharing" thing to his advantage just as much as I was. Calling me was his version of self-sacrificing and polite. She enjoyed herself—that was what was important, and the only times they had been alone together were when they were in the car. Fine, I could live with that. She came toward me in the darkness, and I pulled her into my arms eagerly. The stench was appalling—dog smell on my Bella. Ugh! I hid my revulsion and showed only concern to get her home and polite interest in her evening. It helped to feel Jacob's jealousy as he watched me embrace her, help her into my car, and drive away with her.

I dropped her off at home and took the Volvo home. Then I ran to rejoin Bella in her room. She was waiting for me in her open window, looking out into the night. Jacob was in the forest having volunteered to do shifts outside Bella's house alternating with my family members as we all tried to protect Bella from Victoria's return. Though she was tired, her dreams were restless, perhaps from the Quileute legends she had heard at the bonfire. The dog smell kept me from enjoying being with Bella during the night as much as usual, but her warmth was as enticing as ever. _Wuthering Heights _sat on her night stand, so I picked it up and skimmed through the text. I didn't need light to read the words in the darkness. I found that I could relate to the obsessive way Heathcliff loved Cathy and the tolerance he was willing to show Edgar; it surprised me. She woke briefly from a bad dream but went back to sleep only pausing to voice her surprise at my reading selection.

In the morning, I asked her about her dream, but she couldn't remember it well enough to tell me about it. Before leaving her, I kissed her until I could hear her heart racing, and then headed home to change and get the car. Graduation was in a week, and the members of my family had all talked about it. We would throw a graduation party. Alice and I were graduating too, so our classmates would find it a perfectly normal thing to do. Only Bella would know that the party was really for her since graduating from high school for the umpteenth time had little meaning for any of us. Alice was ecstatic at the prospect. Bella would hate it, but she would only graduate once from high school as a human, so we all felt justified in forcing this on her. The only thing I regretted was I was restraining my desire to get her something for graduation. The motorcycle debacle had taught me that I needed to show restraint. If I over did it again, she would reject the gift. The party would be enough to force on her, and I would strategically highlight that I abstained from getting her a gift out of respect for her wishes. She would be please by my restraint.

School was uneventful, and Alice and I waited to tell Bella about the party as we walked to the car afterwards. We were telling her because Alice had seen that Bella would accept the party more easily if she knew about it rather than if it were a surprise—which was Alice's preference. Bella caved pretty easily; she knew she really had no choice in the matter. What surprised both Alice and I was that Bella was completely obvious to the date. She thought graduation was weeks away instead of next week. The realization made her strangely quiet on the ride home. We dropped Alice off, and I drove her home. She was absorbed in her own thoughts even as I led her into the house and steered her to the sofa. I waited as long as I could stand and then begged her to tell me what she was thinking. She explained about not realizing the date and not knowing what to do, what to tell her dad, and then she couldn't go on.

The conflicting emotions of relief and sorrow surged threw me. She was afraid, and it had nothing to do with the party. She wasn't ready to transform. She needed more time to be human, and part of me was so relieved that she felt that way. Another part of me grieved; I had been anticipating her joining us more than I realized, and the sorrow and loss of that possibility were intense, but I hid the grief. She put on a brave front arguing that she had to be ready that there were all kinds of reasons for us to proceed without delay, but I told her that no one would transform her before she was ready. I could see that there were other things on her mind, and I encouraged her to ask. She asked what I was getting Alice for graduation, but there was more. She asked why I didn't want her to be a vampire, and I concentrated on the part of me that wanted her to remain human and tried to explain how selfish letting her become a vampire made me feel because I would be sacrificing her soul and forcing her to give up her human life and everything that went with that. Having lost those things myself, I couldn't imagine doing it to her, to the girl I loved. She surprised me by revealing her insecurity; she worried that I might lose interest in her once she was different. The thought made me laugh, and I tried to explain that it would be easier for me, but I did confess that I would miss watching the blood flush through her cheeks and the sound of her heart. I failed to tell her just how much satisfaction I got from my ability to make her heart change tempo, but that was the part I would miss—hearing how strong of an influence I had over her, and I would miss her hypnotic warmth that reached beyond her and could saturate my being. Once she was a vampire, I would have to trust that she loved me since I couldn't read her accelerated breathing or heart rate or her thoughts. That would take some getting used to, and I felt a small wave of panic at the idea of not having some way to know absolutely. Maybe once she was a vampire, I would be able to read her thoughts. I could hope.

I refocused my attention and asked her to answer a question for me—to tell me why she didn't want to marry me. As I anticipated, the question embarrassed her. She stalled and then blurted out the reasons I expected. That it would look small-town, that people would assume she was pregnant, that intelligent people waited to get married, that people didn't get married right out of high school anymore. I responded by inventing an insecurity of my own. I asked her if she was more interested in immortality than in me. She laughed and assured me that she wanted me forever. I took her in my arms, feeling her warm body against me, and laughed with her. Then, I unleashed the full force of my eyes on her and told that in 1918, if I had found her, I would have married her, and that I didn't see these times as binding for us since we would be leaving them behind just as I had 1918. She had stopped breathing by the time I had finished, so I reminded her to breathe and asked her to consider my side. She was still resistant. We knew each other's position on getting married, and that was good. We would leave the discussion alone for the time being, but she knew that if she wanted me to be the one, she needed to marry me first. The night was uneventful. Bella slept better, and I enjoyed myself in her room as she slept. At daybreak, I went home as usual.

When I returned the next morning, Bella was so absorbed in a newspaper article she was reading, that she didn't hear me knock on her door or walk through the door. I watched her cautiously, and then called out her name. She gasped and turned around to face me. Her face was pained, and I crossed the room to be at her side immediately. She directed my attention to the newspaper article which suggested a serial killer was behind the murder spree in Seattle. I realized we needed to talk over the situation in Seattle as a family. We needed to get involved. The newborns in Seattle would attract the attention of the Volturi, and we didn't want the Volturi so close to Forks before Bella was a vampire or as a human was hidden somewhere they couldn't find her. Alice still couldn't see what was going on. I asked Bella if she minded skipping school, which she didn't, and we went home to talk to Jasper about newborns. Carlisle knew about the serial killer theory; they had been discussing it on the TV news. Jasper asked me if I had told Bella his story, and I told him I hadn't. Jasper explained his story to her—how newborn vampire armies where created for conquest of territories, especially in the South, how he had been a Confederate soldier during the Civil War with a charismatic gift, how he had been selected by Maria to join her army of newborn vampires, how he had been particularly good at controlling the army and became a favorite of Maria's, how Maria's army defeated other armies, how he left Maria and lived a different kind of life with Peter and Charlotte, how even his new life left him depressed and unhappy, how he drifted away on his own, and how he was found by Alice and had come with her to Carlisle and our family. Bella now understood that the scars all over Jasper's body were battle scars from the wars in the South.

Jasper's theory was that, as impossible as it seemed, there was newborn army in Seattle. Taking on a newborn army ourselves would be difficult. Jasper didn't like the odds. We had skill on our side, but they had sheer numbers and their newborn strength. Alice said she was getting "flickers" of someone's intentions—but they kept changing. There was no firm decision that she could see clearly. I realized that someone knew how Alice's visions worked. This someone knew that Alice could only read the future of a person who had had made up his or her mind. If the decisions changed rapidly, Alice saw the flickers but nothing concrete. If the decisions remained undecided, Alice couldn't see them at all. Someone was hiding from us. Who would know Alice well enough for that? Aro had seen into Alice's mind in Italy. We disagreed on the Volturi. Alice was watching them, and there was no official decision from them. Carlisle and Jasper thought the Volturi respected their rules too much to create a newborn army. I thought it could very well be the Volturi. We would need to train. Jasper would help us. We would need help too, if we could get it. Carlisle called Tanya, and we were all dismayed to learn that Laurent had become very close to Irina during his time in Denali, and that Tanya's family members would only be willing to help us if they could have our permission to have vengeance on the werewolves for Laurent. We would not allow it. I still owed the wolves for protecting Bella from Laurent. Jasper was tense. Without the help of Tanya's family, some of us would be lost.

School the next day was uneventful. Bella hoped with the party would be cancelled because of the newborn army problem, but it was a vain hope. At lunch, the conversation between Bella, Alice, and me drifted between the party and recruiting other vampire friends to help us with the newborns. Bella suggested that she could help if she was transformed. Alice saved me from arguing with Bella by pointing out that Bella, as a newborn herself, wouldn't be helpful in a fight. And before we left, Alice saw that Renee would need to skip the party; previously she had planned on attending, so something must have happened. Bella was anxious about the newborns. We would go in a week, but she couldn't bear the idea of any of us at risk. I tried to assure her, but her anxiety didn't diminish. When she called Renee, I played with her hair and shot her smiles as she seemed to need them. After she was off the phone, she stretched up to kiss me, and I caught her around the waist and lifted her to the kitchen counter so we were more evenly matched in height, and we kissed again, her warmth penetrating me, exciting me, until we risked both of our limited controls.

From the topic of limited self-control, I moved to the topic of hunting. I was going hunting with Carlisle, Esme, and Rosalie after school the next day, and Alice, Emmett, and Jasper would stay behind to watch Bella. She asked to be able to go to La Push instead of being babysat by my siblings. I kept my face composed or tried to and agreed. She asked about why I was hunting again so soon after my last trip, and I explained that hunting more frequently made us stronger, and that we would probably hunt on the way to Seattle before fighting the newborn army. I also explained that that was why the newborns were so strong—because they were so full of their own blood. She asked about her own strength as a newborn, and I told her she would be stronger than I was, and yes, even stronger than Emmett. (I suggested that she challenge him to a contest once she was transformed.) Bella got down from the counter and started to study for finals, and I helped her. During a brief break, she called Jacob to tell him she would be coming over there the following day. I forced myself to look relaxed and played with her hair just as I had done during her conversation with Renee.

After exams the following day, I drove Bella to the border. I asked her about her exams, and as we got closer, I heard Jacob's thoughts and couldn't help the look that crossed on my face. Jacob was preparing himself to declare his love for Bella and to ask her to choose him. Bella asked me about my reactions and what Jacob was thinking, and I told her that I was sure Jacob would tell her. Although I was sure that Jacob couldn't sway her from me, I felt a wave of apprehension. I hated to see her cross the boundary and get into his car. She loved me, I told myself. But he was human and she was human, and I wasn't. He could do things with her, for her, that I couldn't. Pain and jealousy threatened to overwhelm me as I drove back to the house. It was good that I had the distraction of hunting to look forward to. I joined the others, and we left, running threw the forest. I found an eight-point stag and snapped his neck as violently as I could before I drained his blood. The violence provided some measure of relief from the emotions running through me. I hated having to wait through Jacob's declaration. I wanted her back. I wanted her in my arms. I wanted her to be_ mine_. I wanted her to agree to marry me, so she could put some distance between herself and that dog.

When we got back, I couldn't distract myself from my anxiety, so I sat in the garage in the Volvo and waited for Bella to call. My phone rang, and I started the car even before I answered. The relief in hearing her voice was intense. I drove as I listened. She asked me to come get her. Something was wrong. I demanded to know what. She told me that she thought her hand was broken, and she wanted Carlisle to look at it. Fury rippled through me. He had allowed her to get hurt. I wanted to know what happened, and she told me she punched Jacob. I was glad at first, until she told me she had punched Jacob because he had kissed her. I nearly snapped the steering wheel into pieces as I processed that news and slammed the accelerator to the floor. When I thought I could control my voice, I asked if Jacob was still there. He was, and I was there too. I struggled with my emotions. I couldn't loose control there in front of Bella or Charlie. I never wanted Bella, as a human, to see me hunt or fight. It might be too much for her; she might see me for the monster that I was. But Jacob needed a warning; he needed to know that I would not tolerate any situation in which Bella was in danger or physical pain without there being harsh consequences.

Bella opened the door for me, and I examined her hand carefully. It did look like there was a break. She must have hit him hard; that knowledge sent a wave of relief through me. I complimented her on the force of her punch and assured her that I would take care of it (and I meant both her hand and Jacob). I called Jacob's name, and Charlie moved forward to discourage any trouble between Jacob and me. I realized that Jacob was intent on following us outside—taking our confrontation away from Charlie's hearing. Bella leaned against me as I led her out of the house and to the car, and I felt the reassuring warmth spread through me. Once she was safely in the car, I turned to face Jacob. I threatened him. I wanted to kill him for taking liberties with Bella, for kissing her, for allowing her to get hurt. I told him if she was ever hurt in his presence again that I would rip one of his legs off and that if he ever kissed her again, without her permission, I would smash his jaw. I also warned him that I would be fighting for Bella too, that I would be fighting harder than he was, that she was "mine," and that I wouldn't be fighting "fair." He rose to the challenge I presented, not just the conquest of Bella but the fight between rivals. I left him there and drove Bella to the house to see Carlisle.

Emmett and Rosalie were in the garage working on Emmett's jeep when we got out of the Volvo. Emmett noticed Bella holding her hand to her chest and asked what had happened. He howled with laughter when she told him she "punched a werewolf in the face." Then, much to my annoyance, Rosalie mentioned the bet between Emmett and Jasper by suggesting that Jasper would win. Bella was instantly curious. She wanted to know what the bet was about. I didn't want to tell her. She moved to go ask Emmett directly, but I held her fast, and reluctantly told her that they were betting on the number of people she killed during her first year. She was appalled; she tried to joke about it, but her voice was halting and strained. I hugged her and assured her that she didn't need to be a newborn at all. I took her to Carlisle. A "fissure in one knuckle" was broken, and Carlisle worked to fit a brace to her hand. Bella was oddly silent and preoccupied, but she assured me she was not in pain when I asked.

Suddenly, it was graduation day. The trepidation and anticipation that conflicted within me over Bella's status were postponed. Nothing would happen now until after we fought the newborns in a few more days. I was riding with Charlie and Bella to graduation. Charlie had thrown a fit when he realized Bella hoped to go with me alone. He was her father and his time with her was limited; I could be generous. Bella seemed upset or anxious in some way I didn't understand when I got there, but there was no time to really question her about it. We got to school, and I asked if she was alright. She told me she was "nervous." I told her she was beautiful, and then Charlie demanded his time with his daughter before her high school graduation. As Bella and I walked into the gym, we were surrounded by chaos. The principal ordered me up front, and Bella was directed to the back. I kissed her before we parted. When I lined up among the Cs, I was surprised that Alice wasn't there.

Alice still wasn't there, and we were nearly up. Suddenly she flitted to my side. She offered no explanation, and I read her mind with confusion and irritation. She was translating the "Battle Hymn of the Republic" into different languages. She was obviously trying to stop me from seeing in her mind, but the middle of our graduation ceremony was not the time or place to force her to tell me what was going on. We went and received our diplomas. I listened intently in case her real thoughts broke through. But her concentration on blocking me was too strong. What would Alice be trying to hide from me? Had she had another vision? Why wouldn't she share that? I was frustrated and confused. It irritated me that she left immediately after receiving her diploma. I would have to wait until we were home, and our house would be full of guests. But that wouldn't stop me. I would make her tell me when Bella and I got home.

When all the diplomas were handed out and it was over, I waded through the crowd to get to Bella's side. I congratulated her and wound my arms around her, feeling her warmth enveloped me. She still seemed jumpy and anxious. Her gaze darted around the room, and I asked who she was looking for. She wondered about Alice. Some of my concern about what Alice was hiding from me must have flashed across my face, because she asked me what I worried about. I hesitated, and she surprised me. She asked what Alice had been thinking to block my ability to read her mind. I told her, but now I knew that Bella knew what Alice was hiding. I asked her to tell me. She hesitated. She told me it was her idea, but then suggested that whatever it was could be a reason for the party to be cancelled and asked me to remain "calm." I felt a surge of panic, not because Bella thought something was too much for me to handle, but because Alice had. As in immortal, Alice knew what was frightening to us and what wasn't. Bella always overestimated threats to us because she was human.

And then she told me. She thought the newborns and the stranger in her room were connected. The stranger had been a test to get past Alice, and the things he took were for the newborns so they could find Bella. I was stunned. Panic shot through me. She was right. This was terrible. How could we protect Bella from an army of newborns who were so new and were targeting her scent? She could die! Would I have to bite her to save her from this? I had promised her she could choose. Would I go back on that? I couldn't think straight. Too many ideas and emotions were flooding my mind. I longed to take Bella in my arms and run, but we were in front of people. I tried to organize my thoughts, to get them under control, but I couldn't. Anger and rage at the creator of this army directed my attention. Charlie joined us, and it was too much. I couldn't pretend in front of Charlie. I excused myself, knowing that I had been too abrupt but unable to control myself more than that.

I ran to find some sense of release or exertion. It was not very satisfying. Tanya's family wouldn't help us and a newborn army was coming to destroy Bella and my family. It looked horrendous. No wonder Alice had tried to hide this from me. What could we do? I racked my brain but couldn't come up with anything. We needed help. Who would help us? The situation was impossible. I realized in the throws of my despair that Bella and Charlie should be done dinner soon, and I went to wait for her. Bella stood by the cruiser waiting for her father who, I could tell, was engaging people in conversation and slowly making his way out of the restaurant. I walked toward her and pulled her to my chest. I kissed her roughly and guessed that she could feel all my desperation in the way I held her and the kiss. I felt her heart race in my arms, and I was heartened that even in these circumstances she could respond to me in such a way; I let her warmth course through me—needing it, savoring it. She asked me how I was, and I apologized for freaking out. She suggested she should have waited to tell me, but I disagreed. Charlie was coming, so I kissed her again and told her I would follow them to the house.

I ran through the forest following Charlie's car. As Charlie was driving away from the house, I greeted Bella and encircled her in my arms and kissed her. I was so panicked that I knew she would feel the difference in this kiss, but I couldn't help myself. I loved her, and she was threatened by forces that I was not sure I could protect her from. What if this was it? What if I could be separated from her for good? My kiss was greedy and urgent and desperate; I didn't want her warmth to leave me or to fade as our bodies pressed together and we kissed; I wanted that warmth always. I knew Bella knew my desperation because she refused to look me in the eyes and redirected our efforts to surviving the party. I put my hands around her face and promised that nothing would happen to her. Her response was that she wasn't worried about herself. Of course, she was worried about us, the immortals. She was so absurd. It was part of her charm.

I put my arm around her, and we walked into the house. Alice had outdone herself as usual, and Bella gasped as she took in our first floor transformed into a nightclub. I pulled Bella with me as we went to tell both Jasper and Carlisle the connections Bella had made between the stranger in her room and the newborns. Jasper was particularly unhappy at how things looked, but before we could get into much of a discussion, guests started arriving. I stayed close to Bella with one arm wrapped around her. We made the rounds, and everything seemed fine. Suddenly, Alice's vision flashed through my mind: newborns in Forks, our family fighting, our family out numbered, Esme, Carlisle, and Jasper lost, ripped to pieces, and Charlie and other humans from town killed. I let go of Bella. I had to find Alice and go over the vision with her. Bella's gaze followed me as I walked away, and it was painful to feel my body return to normal temperature. I found Alice. We went over the vision again. We were looking for someway to turn the situation to our advantage, but we couldn't find it. With the newborns in Forks, we were spread too thinly trying to defend, but we couldn't see where to meet them that would give us an advantage. Bella followed after me, but by the time she reached Alice, I had gone to find Carlisle.

I was still with Carlisle when I read the most alarming and startling images as they flashed through Alice's mind. Jacob and two of his werewolf brothers were, not only in the house, they were threatening Bella and then Bella and Alice. As anger surged through me, Jasper moved to defend them, and Jacob demanded to know what was going on. Alice told them, and when Jasper told them there would be an _even_ fight between us and the newborns, Jacob had said it wouldn't be—meaning the werewolves would join us, they would fight with us! I was just as surprised as Alice and Jasper at his commitment. Alice's vision of slaughter disappeared and was replaced by nothing. I suddenly appreciated how that blindness must have bothered her. But the idea of blindness and living, blindness and winning was euphoric. We would all take that. Both the werewolves and our family were better protected working together; it was a strange alliance, and we would need to be careful to make it work. The wolves would meet us for a training session that night.

I took Bella home feeling so much more at ease by this alliance. Bella, however, seemed more anxious than ever. She worried about all our safeties and refused to be comforted. I tried to encourage her to stay home and sleep through the training session, but she would not be left behind. At 3:00 AM, she was still "alert and tense," so I pulled her up and begged her to stay behind one last time. When she refused, I cradled her in my arms and jumped from her room to the ground and then set her into place on my back, and we ran to meet the others.

As we entered the clearing, Bella unloaded another theory on me. She posited that the stranger in her bedroom, the newborns, and Victoria were all related. She explained her reasoning, and I was impressed with her for the second time that day. We couldn't be sure, but the Victoria-newborn-stranger theory had merits, and the idea of me actually being able to lay hands on Victoria myself to kill her filled me with intense longing.

In the clearing, Alice was unhappy because the werewolves were coming and blocking her vision. When I explained this to Bella, Alice stuck her tongue out at me in response. Emmett asked if Bella was going to practice too, and I groaned; he shouldn't put such ideas in her head. Carlisle asked when the wolves would join us, and I told him very shortly—and that they were coming as werewolves. Although Carlisle seemed to accept this as necessary, Bella looked alarmed. She had never shared with me the experiences she had at La Push that made her know werewolves were dangerous, but they were clearly flooding her mind now. I read the terror in her face and heard her heart accelerate at the idea of seeing the pack of werewolves. It occurred to me that this was a good thing. If she found them again so terrifying and monstrous, then maybe she would put distance between herself and Jacob.

As the pack came closer, I could read their minds, its mind. It was complicated: the individual minds and the group identity, and it had grown. Werewolf smell came with them, compounded by ten. There were ten werewolves now. I told my family to get ready. I stood with Bella, holding her hand, but as I watched Jasper and Emmett stand in front of my family, part of me longed to be with them. There was so much to read in the mind of the pack. All the individual experiences, the way the group mind coordinated as individual werewolves, the chain of command, imprinting, and more. Carlisle moved to greet them, and I translated for Sam. They would "watch and listen." Carlisle acknowledged how difficult working with us must be for them and explained that Jasper would instruct us.

Carlisle explained how newborn vampires were different than us, and Jasper explained what to watch out for in newborn attacks and how best to attack them and then began demonstrations. All of us took turns at it, with Jasper making comments occasionally and with the wolves watching. I watched intently and listened to Jasper's thoughts as he worked. First went Emmett, and then Jasper had Alice go. The wolves were impressed with her—as they should have been. My turn with Jasper was challenging. Though I could read his thoughts, the moves he chose caught me off-guard, and neither one of us was able to gain the advantage. Carlisle finally put an end to our session, so that Jasper could continue with the others. We had been at it for hours, and the sky was beginning to lighten. I could tell Bella was exhausted, and I wanted to get her home. Jasper seemed to be wrapping up the session. He told the werewolves we could be practicing again the following night which I acknowledged for Sam. Then Sam requested that the werewolves be allowed to smell each of us, so they were familiar with our individual scents—a precaution so that they would not to confuse us with any of the newborns. I told everyone to "hold very still" while the pack did this. It was interesting, as they filed past us to get our scents, I realized that each of them had an individual scent—if you could get past the initial, repulsive, dogginess of the smell.

Bella revived herself as the werewolves came near us, and I watched her intently. Did she know Jacob in his wolf form? What would her reaction be? I could tell that Jacob was curious about Bella's reaction as well. Bella identified Jacob easily, and Jacob knew it. He grinned at her, and she stared at him, and I felt his excitement. He moved out of his place in the pack and came toward Bella. He glanced at me, and though I felt nothing but repulsion and loathing, I kept my face emotionless. He stood in front of her and brought his face down to be level with hers. She called his name and stretched out her hand to touch his face. It was almost unbearable to watch. She wasn't repulsed or horrified; she was as curious as ever, and she was touching him. I fought for control. I wanted to attack him or at the very least to grab her and take her way. He was a monster. Why couldn't she see that? The pleasure that Jacob was taking in this encounter made it all the more disgusting to endure. No! Ugh! He licked her face. I clenched my hands into fists and restrained myself from running over and tearing his throat out; it was very difficult. I held my breath and fought for control. Bella was, at least, repulsed by the lick and jumped back and hit him. Did this count as kissing her without her permission? I wasn't sure. Jacob certainly was pleased with himself. He laughed, and Bella seemed to forgive him for his liberty because she laughed too. We were all looking at them, Jacob and Bella. My family members were appalled that Bella could be so familiar with a dog, but the pack members were also highly uncomfortable. They didn't understand Jacob's obsession with Bella who they clearly associated with me and with us. I took some small comfort in the fact that they disapproved so thoroughly. The pack was withdrawing, but Jacob remained near Bella. I resigned myself and crossed over to Bella, reaching for her hand as soon as I was close enough. Her familiar warmth calmed me.

I asked Bella if she was ready to go home, but Jacob intruded. He wanted to know what would happen with Bella during the battle. I told him I hadn't worked it out yet. It would be complicated to find a good place to hide her, but I assured him I would make sure she was safe. Jacob was still a wolf, so I was reading his thoughts and answering his questions. Bella was only getting half of the conversation, and she wanted to know what we were talking about. Jacob wanted to speak out loud, so he ran to the trees to transform back into human form. Bella wanted to know why he left, and I explained that he would return. When he returned, he wanted more details. Hiding Bella would be complicated, I explained. The newborns had her scent; they could follow her. They would pick up our scent together, Bella's and mine, and they could follow that too. Jacob suggested leaving her at La Push with some of the younger werewolves, but again she had been there too often. Bella was outraged that we were trying to figure out what to "do" with her during the battle. She worried about Charlie, but Jacob said that he would have Billy get Charlie to the reservation. I returned to trying to explain the complications. Young vampires were coming to hunt Bella—that Alice saw, but they had a creator. Where would the creator be? Would the creator be trying to use the newborn attack as a diversion. Bella had to be hidden somewhere she hadn't been before. Jacob suggested somewhere deep in the forest. The problem was how to get her there without leaving a clear trail right to her; it didn't seem possible.

Bella was too tired for this; I wanted to get her home, but then Jacob came up with an interesting idea. If he carried Bella, would her scent be obscured by his? We could test it right there. Since I was more powerfully aware of Bella's scent than any of my family members, I called Jasper over. I hated the idea of Jacob carrying her, of him holding her in his arms, against his perpetually bare chest, but if he could obscure her scent, we would have a way to make her disappear, scent-wise anyway. Jacob tried to explain this to Bella, and I told her she would have to let Jacob carry her. She looked uncomfortable with idea, and I was glad. It helped to know she didn't want to do this. I explained the test to Jasper, and Jacob took off with Bella. Jasper and Alice followed them after a few moments. It was a "success." Bella scent was obscured by the dog stench. Jasper came up with the idea of having Bella leave a false trail that would position the newborns exactly where we wanted them. Alice saw that the false trail idea would work. Then, Jacob could take Bella into the forest and hide her. Much of the conversation was done in my head, which Jacob found annoying. I explained it to Bella. We, Jacob, Alice, Jasper, and I, were all excited by these new plans and the prospect of the coming battle. I actually found myself smiling at Jacob's enthusiasm. Jasper's next thought alarmed me, and I said "no" immediately. Alice demanded an explanation. If Bella was actually in the clearing, the newborns would go wild, and it would make it easier to destroy them. Jasper backtracked from the idea under my strong disapproval, and Jasper and Alice wandered off to practice some more. Jacob was appalled by Jasper's suggestion, and I tried to explain Jasper's unique point of view, based on his military and newborn army training.

Jacob had another good idea. Seth Clearwater could stay with Bella during the battle in his wolf form—that way Seth, and Bella by extension, would be connected to the pack mind. We, those of us fighting in the clearing, would know if there was any danger to Seth and Bella instantly and be able to react. We explained all of this to Bella, but she was nearly too tired to process it all. I looked at my beautiful Bella, and I wondered if I could stand to be away from her during the battle even with all the precautions we were making. What if they weren't enough? I couldn't bear to think of it. Jacob and I mused over our alliance, and then I took Bella home. I carried her knowing that she would fall asleep on the way. She smelled like dog, but that was going to protect her. I tried to concentrate on that aspect of the stench—and the assurance that her radiating warmth always provided me.

Bella slept very restlessly. She called out in her sleep. Though she said my name and obviously dreamed about me, her dreams must have shifted to images or anxieties about the coming battle. She called Jasper's name and thrashed in her sleep. She said something about a third wife, but I didn't understand the reference. She seemed to wake up at different times but would roll over and drift into sleep again. When she finally did wake up, it was late afternoon, and I asked her she was really awake. She was surprised to realize it was so late in the day. I soothed her by saying she had a late night. She got up, and I watched her carefully as we went down stairs. As she ate, I noticed the bracelet on her left wrist. A silver chain with a carved wooden wolf charm on it. Jealousy and indignation flashed through me. Jacob was testing my control, but I carefully composed my face and struggled to show the right emotions in my eyes. I could use his gift to get her to accept a gift of my own, but only if I was careful. I knew the charm I wanted to give her. It was a heart shaped diamond that had been my mother's. She would never accept it if she knew it was a diamond. I would let her assume it was a crystal, but it would outshine the wooden wolf in more ways than one, I thought with satisfaction. I asked to examine the charm; she looked apprehensive. I moved the conversation from the fact that Jacob could give her gifts to the fact that she didn't want gifts from me, and I got her to agree to accept a "hand-me-down" gift to put on the bracelet to remind her of me. I loved her so, and she loved me desperately. She thought I was too good for her, that she didn't "deserve" me. It was the other way around, of course. My thoughts returned to heart shaped diamond; one diamond accepted. If only I could use her desperate love, to get her to accept my engagement ring, the diamond that mattered most to me, that would show my possession of her and her belonging to me to all the world.

My phone rang. It was Alice. Having listened to Bella's dreams all night, I was not surprised by Alice's latest vision of Bella wandering lost in the forest trying to find the battle. I told her I would sort it out with Bella. Then I asked Bella what she was planning. She hesitated and looked uncomfortable. Finally, she told me that she wanted to be in the clearing, to follow Jasper's idea; she wanted to help. She had thought of a way; she would have Seth take her down to the battle—he would want to go as much as she did. I told her Sam would order Seth not to do that; she found an argument against that, but I told her Jacob could order Seth to stay put too as second in command. That stumped her; she knew Jacob didn't want her in the clearing any more than I did. I tried to divert her attention by discussing interesting things I had learned about the pack and the individual members. It worked for a while; she was genuinely interested, and who wouldn't be. I found the pack dynamics engrossing, but she brought the conversation back to the battle. She said she "had to be" there. I said "no." I tried to comfort her and tell her there was nothing to fear; we had the situation completely under control. We would easily destroy the newborns, and none of us would be hurt. And then she surprised me. She asked to either be in the clearing or for me to stay with her; she said that she couldn't bear to be apart from me again, couldn't bear not knowing if I was okay or not. I froze and stopped breathing for a moment. I looked at her; she was truly ashamed to be asking this of me.

I looked into her eyes for a long while. The faces of my family members flashed through my mind, and I felt panic and fear for them. Those images were followed by the zombie images of Bella Jacob had forced on me and the memories of what Alice had heard and seen herself. Bella, my Bella. Helpless and devastated by my absence. I couldn't inflict that kind of pain on her again, not even for a short a time as the battle would take. In truth, it would be unbearable for me to be away from her as well. What if something went wrong with the plan? What if some how a newborn got to her or the creator? Seth wasn't enough. It would be difficult to miss the battle, but I would do anything for Bella. I called Alice to ask her to sit with Bella while I talked to Jasper. Bella felt so guilty; she apologized. I told her we were compromising—of her two suggestions, I had picked the one I could bear. She put her head against my chest, and I leaned down to kiss her hair, feeling her warmth against me, I felt reassured. We were silent for a while. Though I envied the others for the fight I would miss, I realized that Bella thought I was making a tremendous sacrifice for her, and that was to my advantage. Then, I remembered her reference to a third wife in her dreams. I asked her about it, but Alice arrived, and I didn't get the explanation I wanted. Alice already knew that I had agreed to stay with Bella for the battle, of course. She had informed the others and taunted me by telling me how the news had amused Emmett. I left to talk to Jasper and the others anyway.

Everyone thought Bella's fears where silly, but they also knew the pain I had put her through when we left. Everyone was comfortable with me skipping the battle if it provided Bella with what she needed. Emmett enjoyed teasing the hell out of me about it, but in his thoughts he was also intensely happy for me—that I was so completely absorbed by Bella and she with me that we couldn't and wouldn't be separated from each other. He had that with Rosalie, and he was glad for me to have it too. Both Carlisle and Jasper were uncomfortable with the unknown factor of the creator. We knew the plan of the newborns to attack Forks, but the creator was being very careful to hide from us, and that was ominous. Their apprehension over the creator gave me another reason to feel okay with staying with Bella.

I returned to see Bella. As I got close to the house, I could hear the arrangements that Alice had made. Bella would have a sleep over with lonesome Alice and a Saturday shopping spree in Olympia while the rest of us hiked—celebrating graduation. Alice and I hung out with Bella and Charlie for a while, and then we left early. Charlie hoped I enjoyed myself hiking, and I thanked him. Alice went home, and I waited for Bella in her room. We were meeting the werewolves again tonight but much earlier which was good, because Bella needed to get a decent night of sleep. Bella thought Alice was kidnapping her with the whole sleepover-shopping spree story, but I told her that I was. Since I was staying with her for the battle, I didn't need to hunt the night before, so we would be alone in my house for the evening. She was suddenly quiet, and with a pang of fear, I wondered if the idea would scare her, but she assured me that her only regret was that it wasn't a two day sleep over and we couldn't start tonight. Relief washed over me, and I laughed.

I carried Bella to the clearing; the wolves and my family were already there. I was not sure whether the reduction of the werewolves to three made their smell less offensive or if it was possible that I was somehow getting more accustom to the smell, but it didn't bother me as much as usual. Only three wolves were there tonight, Jacob, Quil, and Embry. I explained that with the pack mind sharing thoughts and memories, not all of them needed to be there to get the information they needed. They had all come last night because they didn't trust us or the success of the experiment, but since it had gone well last night, they were content to send a smaller contingent. Jacob was willing to come alone, but Sam didn't trust us that much, so Jacob had company. Bella wanted to know if I would be helping Jasper again, and I told her if he needed me to. I realized that Jacob thought that Bella was uncomfortable. His response to his assessment was to leave Quil and Embry and cross over to us. I greeted him, and he whined softly looking into Bella's eyes. She said she was fine but worried. I translated Jacob's thoughts; he wanted to know why. He growled at my translation; his original statement had been more blunt, but I had edited. Bella started to tell him that there were things to be worried about. Jasper wanted some help, so I excused myself. I looked at her for a moment; her attraction to the dog was mystifying. I wished she would get over it. Then I turned away from them and walked over to help Jasper. On the way home, I asked Bella to try and relax. The next evening we would spend alone, and during that time, I wanted her to think about only us, just her and me. She promised she would try.

Bella had set off from her house alone in the truck, to meet Alice for the sleep over, and I had joined her in the truck once she was out of view of the house. She was quiet and nervous. I was a little nervous too. I wanted her to agree to marry me, and I hoped that with this night alone with no one in danger of listening or walking in on us, that I could convince her. As soon as she turned off the engine, I was at her door and pulling her into my arms and kissing her. The prospect of the whole evening alone together was suddenly tantalizing. I wanted her. I carried her into the house. Her breathe became uneven under my lips; we kissed further, her warmth filled me, Then, it was time to break apart, to maintain some control. I welcomed her home. She liked the way it sounded, calling my home her home, and it thrilled me that she liked it. I set her down, and she put her arms around me. I wanted to give her her "hand-me-down" and asked if I should go get it from my room. She took my hand and suggested we both go, so I cradled her in my arms and raced to my room with her. I set her down and grabbed the heart charm from the closet. She walked to the golden bed and sat down, scooting to the center of the bed. I joined her on the bed and reminded her that it was a "hand-me-down" and then took her wrist and fastened the charm into place opposite the wolf. She looked at it curiously and then gasped as it caught in the light and sparkled. I explained that it was mother's and the ways it was a good representation of me (hard, cold, sparkling in sunlight, silent, and hers). She thought it was "beautiful" and thanked me for the charm and my heart. I was elated that she would accept the gift "so easily." She leaned her head against me, and I held her—inhaling her scent and feeling the delightful warmth of her body against mine.

She was quiet for a moment and then told me she wanted to talk to me. She mentioned the compromise we had come to about the battle and said she wanted to discuss a compromise on another subject. I invited her to continue, and her heart started racing. It made me very curious. I listened intently. She asked about my marriage condition and asked if there could be compromise on that. I said "no"—taking her humanity away was a huge "concession" on my part. Marriage was what I would exchange for that. She went over it again. To change her myself, I demanded that she marry me first. I smiled and surprised her by adding "to start with." She struggled to compose herself wanting to know what else, and I mentioned tuition money, time, and a new car. But I was too curious now. What did she want? Her face flushed, and she looked away from me, hiding her eyes. It was painful not knowing, and I told her so. She started talking about being a newborn and her bloodlust. She didn't think she would be herself anymore; she feared that her feelings toward me would be different. I told her the bloodlust would pass. She wanted to do something while she was still human. I promised her she could have whatever she wanted. I begged her to tell me. I didn't understand what she wanted. She told me she wanted me, and I answered back that I was hers. She started kissing me. I still didn't get it. Then her hands struggled with the buttons on my shirt, and I felt them shaking from her anxiety and awkwardness, and I froze. I knew what she was asking—what I wanted too—what I had been fantasizing about for over a year. Though I wanted it more than anything, I didn't see how it was possible. I would hurt her; I could kill her. Her active participation would drive me wild, and I would be beyond control.

The torrent of emotions that filled my mind at the idea of making love to Bella were still crashing against each other as I pushed away from her. I told her "no"; we would not discuss this. She fought me and started to un-button her shirt. I caught her wrists in my hands and refused to let them go. We argued further, but my answer remained firm. And then she was crying, and I realized with sudden horror that she thought I didn't want her that way. I wrapped my arms around her warm body and tried to assure her that I wanted her exactly that way, but that her safety was more important. I tried to change the subject, but she redirected right back to the topic of our having sex. I tried to think this through. She wanted this, and I wanted it. She was willing, it seemed, to marry me if I agreed at this, to us making love while she was still human. Was this possible? Did I have enough control for this? I thought that I did. I was after all intimately involved with her already, a human girl. I hadn't killed Bella, my singer, the day we met. I had learned to control my thirst for her blood so much so that I could touch her and kiss her. I had tasted her blood and stopped without killing her. And she would marry me. In fact, if I agreed to sex with her as a human but demanded that we got married first (as is traditional after all), we could be married all the sooner, and Bella would be _mine_.

I let her argue with me about it, and then she pleaded with me—begging for us to try and promising to marry me in return, agreeing to accept tuition money and a car. I told her that her pleading was painful to me—and it was painful to the part of me that was uncertain, that knew there was a risk in agreeing to this, but another part of me marveled that I had her begging for the very thing I wanted most, after having her as my wife. My tortured conflict, which was genuine on my part—in some ways, was a powerful lure, and she was powerless against it. I hesitated; she pleaded again, and then she started kissing me. I held her face to mine and kissed her back. I couldn't contain all of the excitement that I felt; she would agree to marry me and we would make love. I felt dizzy at my triumph. I felt her body respond to my urgency. Her heart raced and her body trembled against mine. Her warmth radiated through me, and I wanted it too badly. I wanted our naked bodies pressed together, so I could take in as much of her heat as possible. I wanted more. I wanted to make love to her, my penis inside her, every part of me taking in that glorious warmth , its own aphrodisiac. She had no idea how badly I wanted this. I struggled to rein it in. She pulled away gasping for air, and then started kissing me again. She tried to reach the front of her shirt again, and my hands stopped her. She was confused, and I explained that we would try but not tonight. She wanted to know why when we were by ourselves in an empty house. I told her she had to go first—after she married me, we would try to make love. She tried to protest, to argue that we shouldn't wait. I pulled her to me and kissed her carefully, passionately, trying to take away all her resistance. She responded to me fully, kissing and touching me greedily.

Suddenly, I caught a new scent, and I struggled to suppress the overwhelming sense of sexual frenzy that the scent induced. I had aroused her so much this time that her body was preparing to receive mine into hers, and I could smell the secretions from her glands, the natural lubricants that would make it easier for my penis to enter her body. I longed to feel, taste, and touch the warm moisture of those secretions. For few moments, I felt out of my mind as I kissed her fiercely, but I reined it in again and steadied myself.

As she regained her senses, she showed her annoyance; I had trumped her success. She had gotten what she wanted, but I had gotten what I wanted too (more than she realized). I said the word, "engaged," and she protested. I looked at her and asked if she was reneging. I was too happy and amused to hide the emotions on my face. She said that she wasn't, though her resistance was obvious. I wanted to know if she was happy at all about our compromise, and I kissed her again as passionately as I could hoping that I could eliminated this resistance. I wanted her to want to marry me as much as I wanted her to want to make love to me. I didn't get my way; she was focused on the making love part, and I decided I could live with that for now. Then I teased her about the traditional gender attitudes about marriage and sex. She made another stab at our trying that night, but I repeated that we would wait. Then she saw through part of my scheming. She said that I always got what I wanted; I always won, and I had used our making love to get her to marry me, and I admitted it. She guessed at something else, my protection of our "virtue" though she didn't understand why. I explained that though she believed I had a soul and could go to heaven, I was not sure. Heaven in the human world required adherence to the Ten Commandments, and I had broken most of those. Though I would try to make sure that she didn't break the Commandments even as a vampire, there was our virtue. Since sex before marriage was considered sinful, we could both have that on our side if heaven turned out to be a possibility.

She made me affirm that we would not try to have sex until we were married, and she accused me of using that to speed up the wedding. I fought my smile and admitted that her desire for me was to my advantage. She grumbled and thought about what everyone would think, her parents, her friends. She imagined the gossip, but she was imagining it, _marrying me_ this summer. I told her it didn't need to be a big deal; we could go to Las Vegas; I just wanted it to be official—"that you belong to me and _no one else_." She grumbled some more, and I surprised her by asking if she wanted her ring. She didn't; she didn't even want to see it. I felt the disappointment flood my face before I could hide it. She tried to please me by asking to see it, but I refused. I only wanted to show it to her if she wanted to see it. Then, she pleaded with me, and I got it for her. I explained that it was my mother's engagement ring. She said it was beautiful, and I asked her to try it on—just for sizing purposes. She agreed reluctantly, and I couldn't help myself. I took her left hand and put the ring on her third finger. I felt like I would explode with satisfaction. I tried to keep my face composed. I was afraid that the depth of my emotion might frighten her. We both looked at it on her finger. She guessed that I liked the ring on her finger, and I agreed. She looked into my eyes, and I felt my control slip. The staggering happiness I felt at having her bond herself to me officially must have been apparent because her breath caught. I kissed her firmly and told her how much I liked it. She had accepted my ring; there was just one part missing. I asked her if I could do something and warned her to be nice. Then I bent down on one knee and proposed to her, and she accepted.

In the morning, I left Bella to use the bathroom and get dressed. I had made sure there were muffins and fruit for her for breakfast, and after she ate, we spent the morning listening to music and talking. The idea of this as our routine in the near future made me all the more desirous of it. Around noon, my family returned. Alice, of course, had seen the highlights of what Bella and I had agreed to last night and their future implications, and her sensibilities were completely offended by the idea of a drive-thru wedding in Las Vegas. She was pouting and trying to get to Bella to convince her of a more traditional wedding. I was unhappy about this. Bella was hesitant enough—a big wedding arranged by Alice could frighten her into rejecting the whole thing—and I had worked so hard to get Bella to agree. Alice asked Bella to speak with her alone. I raised objections; we argued. Bella chimed in that she would talk to Alice. I left them to talk not knowing what to expect. Not only could I hear Alice coercing Bella, but I could hear Alice's thoughts as well. Bella didn't want Alice's vision of a wedding. Alice was right. A traditional wedding with Bella was what I wanted more than anything, but if the only way Bella would marry me was by going to Vegas, I would take it.

Bella fought Alice on the wedding. Bella didn't agree, but Alice was confident that she would get her way in the end. Bella was upset. She demanded that I come forward to answer for this. I thought she was going to yell at me, but when she read the anxiety on my face, her face softened and she wrapped her arms around me and leaned her head into my chest. Her warmth was intoxicating. I whispered "Vegas" in her ear. Alice countered, and we squabbled over what we wanted. Then Alice asked about the ring and took Bella's ring-less hand; Alice was confused, and she mentioned the ring would be only "one more diamond." I frantically tried to silence her. Bella would be uncomfortable if she knew the heart charm was a diamond, and I wanted her to have both, the heart and my ring. Alice finally got it and diverted our attention to camping and the coming storm. Alice warned me the weather would be cold, and I began packing supplies in the garage. I gave Bella my phone so she could call Jacob and tell him when to meet us. When Bella got off the phone, I took her to the clearing to lay the false trail.

She was inventive—pulling loose strands of her hair out to strengthen the trail. I tried to tell her that she didn't need to cave to Alice's wedding plans. I told her I wanted whatever she wanted. She stayed silent, so I suggested that Emmett could marry us. She liked that. Then she fell and cut her hand. She told me to stay away because she assumed the smell of her exposed blood would be too much for me—like when she cut herself at her eighteenth birthday at our house. I assured her I was fine. Having believed that I had lost her, that she had died, had fundamentally changed my approach to the lure of her scent and blood. Her blood couldn't compete with my love for her and my desire to protect her—to be with her always. Before she would let me treat her hand, she marked the false trail with her blood—proud of herself for being so thorough, and then she let me treat her hand.

The false trail was laid, and it was time to meet Jacob. He had come a little early and was watching and listening to us. His jealously gave me satisfaction, but I hated this part. I hated thinking about Bella in his arms, against his bare chest, for the distance it would take to get to the hiding place. More than that, I hated knowing how much pleasure he would take in having her in his arms and his desperate hopes that he could still influence her enough to choose him. The only thing that made it bearable was that she had agreed to marry me. She was _mine_ in an absolute way—or that's how it felt to me. He could make his plays—but only for a limited time and only until he knew we were committed. Jacob met us at the edge of the clearing. I showed him on a map where I wanted him to take Bella. Though Jacob was obviously excited about this opportunity to be with Bella, she was so resistant that I didn't feel as threatened as I thought I might. I left them to make my own way to the camp site. She agreed to marry me, I kept telling myself. I just needed to make sure Jacob knew she was mine. I hoped an opportunity to tell him presented itself soon. Perhaps Bella would tell him. I wasn't going to hold my breath for that though. She wasn't wearing my ring yet; she wasn't ready to go public. I could wait. One step at a time.

I ran through the forest. I tried to concentrate on all the things I had gained, but I didn't like being separated from Bella, and more than that I didn't like Jacob being alone with her—with Bella in his arms—however necessary and strategic it was for him to be masking her scent. It was so more intimate than I ever wanted him to be with her, my Bella. I got to the cliff face and set about securing the tent in a sheltered crevice. I tried to distract myself, but the waiting was painful. And then they were there. I stopped pacing and flew to Bella, pulling her to my chest, embracing her, and feeling her warmth against me. She smelled like dog, but she was safe, and we were together again. I thanked Jacob, and he left, to transform into his wolf form and hang out in the woods, commenting on the severity of the coming storm as he did.

And it was bad. The temperature dropped more than I thought possible. We were in the tent. Bella was wrapped in both the jacket and the sleeping bag, but they weren't enough. She was freezing cold, and it was the middle of the night. We had hours left to endure before sunrise. I kept my distance from her—not willing to risk making her colder. But it pained me not to be able to feel her warmth. Cold as she was, she was still warmer than I ever could be. I didn't see how she could make it, but breaking camp to take her home where she could get warm would cause problems. It would be colder outside our shelter in the raging storm. Also, we would have to mask her scent again, and we would risk three sets of trails to this spot (if we continued to use it), instead of the one. But she was too cold. I suggested we leave, but Bella understood the difficulties of breaking camp and stubbornly refused. Her refusal should have made me take her home, but I hesitated.

Even Jacob was worried. And then Jacob's thoughts shocked me. At first, he simply wanted to bring her the jacket he brought. Once he was inside the tent and he saw her, his thoughts changed, and I wanted to kill him. He wanted to warm her through body contact—his monstrously over-heated body pressed to hers. The thought nearly made me mad with fury. I couldn't control my voice. We exchanged hostile remarks. As he started to unzip her sleeping bag, I couldn't control myself, and I reached out and grabbed his shoulder. He told me to "get off." I forced myself to gain some control. He was right, of course. Bella was too cold, and the only sources of heat we had here were human and werewolf body heat. It made sense; it was just the most repugnant thing that I could think of. I told him to keep his hands away from her and to watch himself. Ugh! He was getting a real kick out of my jealousy and anger. I seethed with anger. Bella suddenly seemed to realize his intentions and resisted, but she was too cold. I had the satisfaction of seeing Jacob's response to the touch of her freezing hands and feet. Poor Bella, she was freezing. As much as I hated this, it was better that she was warm. Jacob taunted me off and on as Bella warmed up enough to actually become sleepy. Before she fell asleep, she asked Jacob about the length of his wolf hair, why his was thicker and longer than the others'. He didn't want to answer; he was growing his hair longer because she liked it that way, but he didn't want to admit it. I laughed at his thoughts, and he blurted out his reason because he didn't want me to reveal it to her.

Seth arrived at the camp site as a wolf and stayed in the trees. As Bella drifted off to sleep, Jacob got himself comfortable, and his thoughts drifted. I couldn't take them, and I demanded that he control his thoughts. I had never visualized Jacob with Bella in the ways he had; I had only visualized the two of us together explicitly, things we had done together and things I fantasized about doing together. Jacob had kissed her once, but he had obviously spent a lot of time fantasizing about Bella and imagining _them _together. The explicitness of the images he thought were clear and graphic, and seeing them half naked in the sleeping bag, caressing each other, kissing each other, was more than I could bear. Jacob felt both embarrassment and anger as he realized that I was reading his thoughts. The taunting and goading continued, and I tried to ignore him. Then Jacob wondered if I would let him "see inside" my head since I pried into his without his permission. I said that I would, and I meant it. I owed Jacob, for Bella when we left Forks and for tonight for keeping her warm. There were so many questions, I didn't know where to begin, so I asked him.

He wanted to know about my jealousy. I admitted that it was very strong but that it was worse when Bella was with him alone. Jacob's jealousy was so bad away from Bella that he found it difficult to do anything else in her absence. He wondered how often Bella thought of him, and I told often—"more often than I like." I also told him that I knew he manipulated her through his happiness and pain. He was unrepentant—and said that he had "to use whatever" he had. He insisted that Bella was in love with him too—she just didn't "know it." He wanted to know if I wanted to be able to read her mind. I admitted that I sometimes wanted to read her mind, but that I preferred her to be "happy," and she was happy that I couldn't read her mind. We realized that we had a truce of sorts—in both wanting Bella safe and warm. He came back to the topic of our jealousy, and I chided him for showing his so obviously. He granted that I had more patience than he did, and I told him my patience came from "a hundred years of waiting for _her_." He asked about why I let Bella see him, and I told him that mostly I was worried about her safety, that she would get hurt trying to see him. He asked what I would do if Bella chose him, and I answered that I didn't know. He asked if I would try to kill him, and I told him I wouldn't because it would hurt Bella. We both considered the how much we might like to kill the other. Then Jacob asked what it was like to lose Bella, and I tried to explain how I felt when I had left her, but I couldn't describe how I felt when I thought she had died. He asked about my desire to keep Bella human, and again I tried to explain the four possibilities I saw for Bella and me when I realized that I loved her (1, that she wasn't attracted to me and lived her life without me, 2, that she lived her human life allowing me to accompany her, 3, that she was forced into the first, and 4, that she joined me and we lived as vampires together).

Jacob tried to convince me to leave Bella again, to force her into possibility one, to let her live her human life without me. He said he had a plan. I conceded that was a good plan—possibly as sick and twisted as my some of my own plans for Bella had been (though I would never admit that). I told him that I had thought about the possibility of him and Bella; I had asked Alice about it, but Alice couldn't see it, because "she [couldn't] see [him]." I told him I wouldn't leave Bella again unless she wanted me to. He asked about what I would do if Bella chose him, and I told him that "I would let her go" but that I would be watching and waiting, ready to return to her if she wanted me or needed me. Then I asked him about the story told at the bonfire about a third wife. As he thought about the story, I could understand it, and I groaned. A human woman who sacrificed herself to save the werewolves and her tribe—of course Bella would focus on the third wife. I told Jacob why I wished they hadn't told Bella that story, and explained it was part of the reason I was staying with Bella during the battle. She would put herself at risk to help or save any of us. Our conversation trailed off, the taunting and goading continuing on both sides.

It was a long night. Bella murmured my name to the intense irritation of Jacob. After a while, he drifted off to sleep as well. There was a tough period when Jacob was dreaming and his unconscious mind pulled up images of himself and Bella that were even more revolting to me than the ones earlier. Then Bella said Jacob's name in her sleep, and I was seized with pain and jealousy so intense I felt like I couldn't see straight. I paced a little and consoled myself with thinking through different ways of killing and dismembering him. When Bella woke up, her nervous eyes sought mine. I tried to conceal my emotions, but I don't think I was convincing. The stress of the hours of her in Jacob's arms was too much to hide. She struggled to free herself, but she couldn't. She asked for my help, and I couldn't help myself. I unzipped the sleeping bag violently knowing that I would dump the sleeping dog onto the cold floor, and I didn't care. That's not true; I did care. I wanted some way to punish him for his familiarity with my fiancée.

When Jacob hit the floor, he rolled onto Bella, smashing onto her. Some part of me realized that this was an unintentional move on his part, but my rage and anger were such I that I snapped. I grabbed him and threw him to the other side of the tent. Then we were both growling at each other, and I wanted the fight more than anything. Bella yelled for us to stop. I wrapped my arm around her, and just touching her again had a soothing effect. She got me to apologize to Jacob, to my indignation, and the taunting between us, Jacob and me, began again. He said that last night was the best night of his life and asked me if it was the worst of mine. The worst night of my life was the night I thought Bella was dead, so, no, last night was not the worst. But I answered back that even if I had been able to warm Bella in the sleeping bag last night, it would not have made the "top ten" best nights of my life. That was too much information for him, and he excused himself from our presence. Bella tried to get him to stay, but he wouldn't for which I was intensely grateful.

Bella and I sat together waiting for the battle to begin. I suggested distracting her and ran my fingers along her face, but she shivered. It was still too cold for me to risk making her colder by physical contact, and the glow in my fingers faded. She asked what my "ten best nights" were. I laughed and asked her to guess. I was overjoyed that she had chosen this as something to do. Bella obviously thought that Jacob had left and was far away by now, but he hadn't. He was lingering, and he was listening to our conversation. My best night ever was the night Bella agreed to marry me, and if he lingered long enough, he would hear that and know that Bella and I were engaged, that she was _mine_. She said she could only think of her best nights. Better, I thought. Bella's best nights would hurt Jacob more than mine. I encouraged her to continue. She named the first night she had known that I stayed with her all night, and I agreed that was one of mine. Then she asked nervously what she had said in her sleep last night. I told her that she had said my name but that at the end she had said "Jacob" and "my Jacob." She tried to look into my eyes to gauge my reaction, but I wouldn't let her. She told me that was how she classified the Jacob who drove her nuts and the Jacob who was her friend. I didn't like it, but that explanation was better than the one I had created in my head that had Bella reciprocating Jacob's feelings and lust for her, and I had the satisfaction of hearing Jacob's disappointment at her explanation.

We returned to favorite nights. Another of hers was the night we flew home from Italy. It was one of mine as well. Another was the night after returning from Italy, and again I agreed it was one of mine. She wondered if she had guessed my best night, and I told her that my best night was the night she agreed to marry me, and then I asked her if it was on her list, and she agreed it was hesitantly. Jacob was still listening, and I could feel his pain. His howl erupted through the stillness. Bella realized what the noise was and why Jacob cried out in pain. She asked me if I had known he was listening, and I admitted it. I told her that I thought he deserved "to know." She wasn't angry at me; she was angry at herself. She was tormented by the fact that she had caused him pain. I tried to comfort her and placed my arms around her. She started out to find him to talk to him. I couldn't let her. I grabbed her wrist and wouldn't let her go. I apologized, but she wouldn't be consoled; she started crying.

How did I make this right? I was glad that he was in pain. I was glad that he knew she had agreed to marry me. What did she need here? She needed me, and yet she needed him to be happy. Jacob had asked me when I had decided "to play the very patient good guy." That was the answer. I would play the self-sacrificing, patient good guy. It was good thing I was a brilliant liar. This would take all my control and all my acting skills to pull off. But if I could pull it off, I would eliminate Jacob as a threat, make Bella see me as the most generous and unselfish person in the world, and get to marry Bella. I concentrated on these goals and steeled myself for the almost unbearable things I would need to do.

I asked her if she wanted me to try and bring him back. She said yes, and I disappeared to get him. I ran through the forest following his sent and searching for his mind. I found him quickly; he was too upset to be running fast. He heard me approach and turned to face me, pain and fury clear on his face. He growled at me, his whole frame shaking with the rage he felt, and then he asked me what I wanted. I told him that Bella was upset that he was upset and that I had agreed to come after him and request that he return. He was surprised; he couldn't imagine why I would do such a thing even if Bella wanted me too. I didn't explain myself. I just asked him to return, and he agreed. I could hear his thoughts. He was desperate now. She had agreed to marry me. He would do anything to give her a reason not to. Though rage rippled through me, I knew that I had to let this play out and not seem mad about it. He was going to kiss her again. He was going to try to force her to see that she loved him, and though I wanted to turn on him and rip his head off for entertaining these thoughts, I knew I had to pretend that I would let Bella make the choice between us. I had to pretend that I would let her choose Jacob if she wanted to. She had to feel like she had a sense of agency and was choosing me willingly even though I had carefully manipulated her into choosing me from the very first week we met.

Jacob and I ran through the forest. Each absorbed in his own thoughts. He tried not to think some of his—so I wouldn't know them, but I had a good sense of them by the time we arrived. My face was carefully controlled as I stepped out of the trees to meet Bella. Seth greeted me—there was information from the pack that he needed to share with me. Alice had seen that the Volturi would show up today, and I needed Seth to lock that down a little better. Then I addressed Bella. I told her that Seth and I needed to coordinate with the pack and that we would go into the woods to do this. I told her I would not listen to her conversation with Jacob and suggested that she had a decision to make. I knew she didn't completely understand, but I left her there to talk with Jacob.

Seth and I went into the woods, and Seth got Sam to ask Alice about the timeframe of the Volturi arrival. It would be close. As soon as the battle in the clearing was over, Bella and I needed to rejoin my family in the clearing so we wouldn't tempt Jane to look for Bella and me alone—and the wolves would need to be go back to La Push. The Volturi shouldn't know about the wolves. We only had about twenty minutes between the end of the battle and the Volturi arrival.

When I returned to the tent, Bella was laying on the sleeping bag clearly in a state of distress. She didn't realize that I knew, and she had no idea that I was going to use this to make myself look better in her eyes. I asked if she was alright. She said no and that she wanted to die. I told her that I wouldn't "allow it." I was such a control freak that I would never give her choices over things that affected her life so significantly. I asked about Jacob, and she told me that he went to the battle. The pack mind flooded my mind through Seth, and I could see that all of them could see what had happened between Bella and Jacob. Most were revolted. Poor Seth was nearly sick—having had to watch it first hand and then relive it through Jacob's thoughts. Knowing before hand, made it easier to control my emotions. I hated watching it first hand, but I had a role to play, and I played it well. I told Bella I wasn't mad at her or Jacob—but I credited him with fighting dirtier than I did. She wanted me to be mad at her, but I wouldn't. I played the self-sacrificing, patient, good guy to a T. I reminded her that she was human, and I was not. I suggested that her life with me was incomplete and that Jacob could complete that. I told her that she loved him, and she answered me back by saying that she loved me more. She begged me to be mad at her, but I wouldn't. It was working; she completely saw me as selfless and generous beyond what she deserved.

She threw herself at me, her warmth crashed through me, bathing me in its sweetness and allure; she demanded me, all of me. I fought to keep from smiling at my victory. The battle was about to begin, and I told her all the reasons we should wait for the consummation of our relationship (our souls, the cold, the dog smell she was now tainted with, our love-making as a reaction to Jacob and not our conscious decisions, and the battle beginning). She worried for my family, and I tried to soothe her. Seth whined because he wanted to be there at the battle, and I explained that to Bella. It started, and I could read the pack mind through Seth, so I translated for Bella. I took her through what I saw the pack doing, the newborns taken down, and the moves of the wolves.

Then I caught her thoughts. VICTORIA! Bella was right. It was Victoria all along. She had caught my scent and followed it. The newborns were to decimate my family, so that she could reach Bella and kill her with less resistance, if any, after the newborn attack. Seth read my thoughts because I was connected to the pack mind. The whole pack went into panic for a moment. Jacob was wild with worry for a few moments and howled from the distance. I assured them that Seth and I could handle this. Victoria had one other with her. I would deal with Victoria and Seth could handle the other one, especially with surprise on our side. Seth was ecstatic at the prospect, and I fought a grin. I wanted this so badly. The bloodlust flared. At long last, I would be able to punish those who threatened my Bella. I would be able to rip them limb from limb, two of them any way—and the most important two, Victoria and Riley, her pawn; Riley, who had stolen Bella's scent and regulated the newborns so Victoria could hide from us. Seth was in my face for a few moments as we coordinated. He would hide in the woods until the appropriate moment and then come to take on the younger vampire. I would deal with Victoria. I was confident about this and so was Seth. The pack relaxed and conveyed the plan to the rest of my family. Again my family members felt the initial anxiety but calmed. The plan would work. Alice could see that it would.

Bella, of course, had no access to these thoughts and was in acute distress that someone had been hurt. I ripped the tent apart and moved her to the back of the crevice with my arms spread in front of her. I explained that she had been right; it was always Victoria. Victoria and her companion, Riley, approached. With Seth hidden in the woods, I felt Victoria's euphoria. I alone defended Bella, and between her and Riley, she would be able to get Bella—stop her heart and kill her. I would be forced to watch, and they would kill me when they were done with Bella if they didn't kill me in the process of killing her. Victoria was confident of her plans. No one could help us in time even if they survived the hoard of newborns. Bella was right, and I felt a surge of relief. What if Bella hadn't insisted on us being together? What if she was here alone with Seth? I shuddered internally at the thought. Here we were facing another situation where I could have lost her, but now I would get to destroy Bella's would-be tormentor myself. I repressed a smile and let my bloodlust fill me. It would be easy with Seth's help. My only fear was that Bella would witness the violence. I never wanted her to see me fight or hunt while she was human. What if it repulsed her? I couldn't think about that now.

Victoria and Riley advanced. Riley started to come toward me. Though I didn't think it would work, I tried to break his bond to Victoria by highlighting his doubts about her and her lies to him. I told him she had lied to him, and she had had him lie to the others. She didn't love him; she was using him. I felt the torment in his mind, and Victoria's rage over my words. But the truth wasn't enough. Victoria dismissed my words as "mind tricks" and ordered him forward. As he moved toward me, Seth snarled and charged Riley, throwing him to the ground and ripping a chunk of Riley away with his teeth. I felt Riley's terror and pain, and I felt Victoria's shock and disappointment. We were more evenly matched now; an opponent for each of them. She crouched and tried to engage me. I teased her. I allowed a slight space between Bella and me. We stalked each other, back and forth. As she thought her moves, I countered them. She gained no advantage, and Seth was doing well against Riley. I felt her panic—her desire to flee. I begged her to stay and taunted her. I talked about James, and I felt her fury at my words. Seth and Riley moved closer to us, and I felt her shock when Seth's fur touched me. I confirmed her worst fears; the werewolf and I were allied, partners.

Though Seth's and my concentrations were focused sharply on our present opponents, Riley and Victoria, we were still linked to the pack in the clearing. They knew what we were up against and were prepared for it, and we knew that they were doing well against the newborns. My family must have also known. Alice would have seen Victoria decision to follow my scent as soon as she made it, but they would also know that with both Seth and me there Bella would be safe. Though Alice couldn't see Seth and me because of the werewolf factor, she did see our family together and whole dealing with the Volturi—including Bella. Victoria and I continued to come at each other. I was getting through her defenses. I was making contact and doing some damage. I was succeeding in tearing pieces of her flesh away while she was unable to touch me. Riley managed to strike Seth full in the chest, and he was thrown against the cliff face near Bella. Seth was okay; he was pretending to be hurt to lure Riley closer. Bella must have really thought that Seth was in danger because she was preparing to cut herself with a sharp shard of rock to distract Riley. I couldn't believe it. The third wife! Didn't the werewolves realized that they couldn't tell Bella stories like that? I signed and moved to intervene. Victoria had been distracted by Bella actions, so I took advantage of that and hurled her against a tree. Then I flew to Riley and yanked one arm and shoulder off and flung them with all my strength and the lunging Victoria who collided with the piece of Riley and was thrown into another tree. She kicked the piece of Riley out of her way and moved toward me again. Riley was in trouble now, and Seth was able to take off his other arm. Riley cried Victoria's name pleading for help, but she ignored him, and the force of Seth's next assault on Riley sent them into the forest. Victoria's panic returned, and she prepared to flee. I asked her to stay, but she started to bolt toward the trees. I was faster; it was time for her to die. I sunk my teeth into her neck and ripped it from her torso. It was anticlimactic to dismember the rest of her body, but I had the intense satisfaction of knowing Victoria was dead and Bella was finally safe. Seth had finished off Riley in the trees. We worked quickly to pile all the pieces together and set the tinder that would ignite the fire.

As we worked, we got images from the clearing of their successes down there. I felt intense relief and pride. So did Seth. He was a good kid, with a pure heart, even if he was a werewolf. I complemented our teamwork, and Seth touched his snout to my fist. I didn't dare look at Bella. I was afraid of what she had seen. I had to defend her, but the violence of my destruction of Victoria—I wasn't sure that she could forgive me for that. When Victoria and Riley were burning in the flames, I went to face Bella. She was frozen in shock. Terror was the dominant emotion on her face, just as I had feared. Her one hand was still pressing the stone shard to the inside of her elbow. I called to her. I asked her to drop the shard. She seemed dazed, but she dropped the piece of stone. I told her not to be afraid; I told her that I wouldn't hurt her. Confusion clouded her face. She didn't understand why I was trying to reassure her. I asked if she was afraid of me. She didn't understand. She moved toward me and then tripped. I caught her in my arms, and she pressed her face into my chest and started crying, her warm body pressed to mine. I tried again to reassure her. She said she was fine, that she just needed some time to come to terms with all that had happened. I apologized repeatedly, and she stopped crying and started kissing me—each part of me she could reach like she was taking inventory of each part of me that was unscathed—sweet points of warmth wherever she lips touched me.

Relief washed over me; somehow, impossibly, the violence was not too much. She loved me and only cared that I was unhurt—not that I was a monster capable of the most monstrous actions. She asked if I was okay, and I assured her that I was. She asked about Seth, and I explained how pleased Seth was with himself. She asked about the others, and I could tell her it was fine down there as well. My family had finished with its newborns, and the pack was done with its. The most challenging fight had been here with Victoria and Riley. I apologized again for what she had seen, and she blew it off dismissively. I reminded her that she had seen me murder and dismember another being, but she didn't seem to care. She said she was only worried about Seth and me—our safety. I scolded her about her attempt with the stone shard and explained that Seth was faking. She shocked and amused me by telling me that she looked forward to being a vampire so she wouldn't be "the only helpless person" in a fight. I couldn't help wondering if she really thought something like this could come at us again. But it was over, and we had won. No one was hurt, and Bella and I were together.

Bella asked about what Seth and I had worked out with the pack earlier, the "complication." I knew she had dealt with so much today already, the stress, violence, and terror. The presence of the Volturi would only add to that. I told her not to be scared but that we needed to rejoin the others. And then Leah's mind flashed through the pack mind. Seth whined, and he watched his sister find a hiding newborn and engage him alone. I asked Seth what she was doing. He only continued to whine. Jacob rushed to help Leah, but the newborn got his arms around him before Jacob could get into a better position, and the newborn squeezed him, crushing many of the bones on his right side. Seth howled at Jacob's pain, and I fell to my knees clutching my head at the agony that rippled through the entire pack mind, Jacob's agony. We all felt it. I was surprised to realize that though a significant part of me hated Jacob with a passion and wanted him dead, and another part of me cared about him and did not want to see him killed by a stranger and did not want his death to cause the pain to Bella that it surely would.

Bella didn't understand what was happening; she called to me desperately. The pain receded. Jacob was hurt, but Sam and Paul dispatched the newborn, and they were taking Jacob back to the reservation; Jacob would be okay; he would heal. I tried to comfort Bella; I told her "we're fine. We're going to be okay," and I told Sam to "help him" speaking to the pack mind. As soon as I said Sam's name, Bella realized that the "we" I was referencing was the pack, and she staggered. I caught her in my arms. Seth tensed beside us, and I ordered him home. Though Seth was resistant, he took off for La Push. Bella again asked what was happening. I told her the Volturi were arriving, and I wanted us all to be together when they got there. I didn't want to encounter Jane and Demetri alone. She was terrified. I assured her it would be alright. Alice had seen no problems; we just needed to get to my family. She asked about the pack, and I explained that the pack was returning to La Push. It was safer for them there. The Volturi would not recognize our truce with the werewolves. She wasn't calming down. She came back to Seth's howl of pain and my anguished cry. I was sure knowledge of Jacob's injuries would be too much, but she begged me. I tried to explain what had happened with Leah. She demanded to know who had been hurt, and I told her. It was too much, and she passed out in my arms. I ran through the forest, quickly rejoining my family. The sight of Bella's unconscious body alarmed by family, but I explained quickly. I lay her on the ground. Carlisle examined her. Alice sat with her and then Esme. I touched her cheek, and we waited nervously. I asked Alice about when the Volturi would arrive and then about Bella. She assured me that the Volturi were minutes away but Bella would revive before they arrived. I whispered in Bella's ear that Jacob was alive and that he was "healing." She came to, and we all assured her that Jacob was okay. Carlisle described Jacob's injuries and what had happened afterwards to Bella. I helped Bella up, and we waited.

Jasper was watching the newborn Bree. Carlisle had given her the opportunity of surrendering, and she had taken it. With Bella so close, she became restless. Carlisle told her that she had to find a way to control herself; her control was the only thing that could save her. Though Bella wanted to move away from Bree, I explained that we had to stay here; the Volturi were arriving. Jane entered the clearing flanked by Felix, Demetri, and two others. I welcomed Jane keeping my voice controlled. Jane's gaze swept over the faces of my family and then rested on Bree. I explained that Bree had surrendered—that Carlisle had given her the opportunity. Jane answered that there weren't opportunities for those who "break the rules." Carlisle conceded that it was up to them. Jane delivered a greeting to Carlisle from Aro, and Carlisle wished that Jane might do the same from him to Aro. She agreed.

Jane refocused on the burning remains of the newborn army they had been sent to destroy. She asked how many, and Carlisle answered eighteen. Jane was surprised, as were Felix and Demetri. Carlisle emphasized that they were "new" and "unskilled." Jane then asked about their creator, and I told her their creator was Victoria. I made Jane aware of a second column of smoke, and Jane asked who had taken care of Victoria. I told her that I had and the one other newborn who accompanied her. She then turned to Bree for confirmation of our story. Bree was resistant at first, but after Jane turned her gift on Bree, the newborn told her everything she knew—all of which confirmed what we had told Jane. Jane was impressed and admitted that to Carlisle. Jane found it interesting that Bella was at the heart of Victoria's creation of the army and the prime target. I explained that Victoria "held a grudge against Bella." Jane found this amusing—and she commented on how our kind seemed to have "strong reactions" to Bella. Reminded of her own strong reactions to Bella, Jane aimed her gift at Bella. It was as useless on Bella as it had been in Italy. And though I was just as proud of Bella's immunity as before, I tensed and asked Jane to refrain to using her gift further.

Jane mused about the novelty of the Volturi soldiers being "unnecessary," and I asked just enough to see it in her thoughts. The Volturi had waited to intervene here, purposefully, hoping for a confrontation between us and the newborn army; they hoped that our family would be pruned. I controlled my anger; it would do no good here, but it was important to know the Volturi feared us so. Jane turned her attention back to Bree, and I spoke on her behalf—I knew that our family would be willing educate her and take her in. I suggested this to Jane; Bree didn't know any better before. Carlisle confirmed that we would be willing, but Jane was firm that Bree needed to be destroyed. The Volturi didn't "give second chances," she said, and she turned her gaze to Bella remarking that the Volturi ancients would find it interesting to know Bella was "still human." Alice spoke up then, assuring Jane that "the date [was] set." Jane ordered Felix to take care of Bree. I told Bella not to watch. She leaned her head into my chest, and I tried to comfort her with my touch. With Bree added to the burning pile, the Volturi soldiers turned and left the clearing, and we were left alone.

We were elated. None of us was hurt. We had defeated Victoria and an army of newborns. Everyone had enjoyed their separate fights (except Bella, of course). We had dealt with the Volturi smoothly and effectively, and we all wondered what the Volturi soldiers and ancients would make of the idea of the seven Cullens taking down a newborn army of nineteen and its creator. Bella was safe, and we had moved past our treaty with the werewolves to a kind of alliance. We had achieved more than we could have imagined, and we were all milling over these thoughts as we made our way home. Once home, Carlisle and I prepared to go to La Push to see Jacob and make sure his bones were set correctly. Carlisle got his bag. Alice dragged Bella up to her bathroom to put make-up on her and make the shopping trip story for Charlie look convincing. Bella shot me a defeated kind of look as Alice pulled her away from me, but I managed to squeeze her hand lightly in consolation.

We drove Carlisle's car to the Blacks. It was pretty crowded, and I was again struck by how much easier it was to be in close contact with so many werewolves and not be so offended or repulsed by the smell. Carlisle was thinking similar thoughts, I noted; he wanted to ask me about it when we were alone. Charlie alternated between trying to comfort Billy and trying take up as little space as possible. Sam, Paul, Jared, Quil, Embry, Seth, Leah, Collin, and Brady were all anxiously waiting and trying to help or at least distract Jacob from the pain. Billy was relieved to see Carlisle and so was Sam. We hadn't been sure about that. I had come just in case my mind reading abilities would help defuse a hostile situation. Carlisle, Sam, Billy, and I went in to see Jacob. Carlisle explained the dose of morphine he would give a normal person of Jacob's size to Sam and Billy, and they discussed how much more to give Jacob since his elevated body temperature and werewolf metabolism would burn it off faster than a regular person's would. They went with the highest dose reasonable—given that Jacob had been in pain so long. It worked. The pain eased. Carlisle examined Jacob and was distressed to see that some of Jacob's bones had started mending even though they weren't set properly. He explained this to both Sam and Billy. Jacob was unconscious by this point. They understood; Carlisle would have to re-brake some of the bones and set them properly. It was too much for Billy; he left the room to report on Jacob's progress to the others. Carlisle had Sam brace Jacob's leg while he snapped the bone, set it correctly, and placed it in a brace. They did the same with Jacob's arm, and the others that needed to be reset. I felt a strange range of emotions. Jacob was my enemy and my ally. He was my rival for Bella's love and a tool I used in that fight, and he was someone Bella cared about deeply. I realized that we were bonded together—through Bella we would be part of each other's life. I wanted her badly enough to accept that, to accept Jacob as part of the price I needed to pay.

I was confident of my future. All the things that threatened us seemed to be removed. Victoria and her newborns were destroyed. The Volturi had been dealt with. Bella had agreed to marry me, and Jacob knew we would be married. Even the violence that Bella had seen me perform was not enough to keep her from me. After Carlisle and I returned from La Push, I listened to music in my room and waited until it would be late enough to join Bella in her room. Suddenly, I realized that Alice was coming to see me; she wanted to talk to me, but she was keeping the topic of her visit clouded by translating Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken" into different languages. I felt a flutter of panic. What would Alice want to talk to me about and yet keep from me? I went to the door and I could see the pain, sympathy, and worry in her face. She was worried about me, about my pain. She stopped concentrating on the poem, and the vision returned. It was nothing horrific—no newborns coming to attack us—no loved ones dead, taken from me forever. It was simple; Bella got on a plane in Seattle and flew to Jacksonville where she would stay and live with her mother and Phil. Bella was choosing to leave me, to leave us. Nothing horrific, and yet all the more devastating for the abandonment I felt. I stared at Alice hopelessly. "When?" I whispered.

"Tomorrow," she whispered back, and she hugged me.

"Why?" I asked desperately, and she told me she didn't know. I asked if it had anything to do with the dog, but she didn't see how it could. If the dog was involved, Bella would disappear with him, and the vision was clear. Bella was alone.

I was consumed with desolation. What had gone so wrong that Bella would leave me? How could she leave me? I thought I had bound her to me so tightly that she couldn't bear to be without me. My thoughts were wild and chaotic. As I went over everything that had happened in the last few days, I couldn't find any thing that could have changed everything so drastically. She called to ask me to stay away until she called the next day. I didn't want to, but I was so upset that I knew I needed time to think, time to calm down, time to plan what to say to convince her not to leave. All night I thought through things to say, trying to get the words just right.

Some part of me also considered holding her against her will—truly kidnapping her and holding her hostage. But I didn't want that. I wanted her to love me, to marry me. I would find a way to convince her to stay. What were the biggest threats I could use? Danger and pain. She had been willing to risk her life for me with the Volturi. She had been willing to sacrifice herself for me and Seth against Victoria. I could threaten her with the Volturi again. She would protect me from danger—but not just danger, pain. She couldn't endure our pain—my pain or Jacob's pain. I would use my pain if I had to.

Jacob's Pursuit: Part Two

How warm and cosy our home is…. Here is shelter for you; here I will protect you like a hunted dove that I have saved from a hawk's claws; I will bring peace to your poor beating heart. It will come little by little…. My little scared, helpless darling. Have no anxiety about anything.

Torvald Helmer, _A Doll's House_ by Henrik Ibsen

You think he belongs to you because you want to belong to him…. Don't. It's a

bad word, "belong." Especially when you put it with somebody you love. Love

shouldn't be like that. Did you ever see the way the clouds love a mountain?

They circle all around it; sometimes you can't even see the mountain for the

clouds. But you know what? You go up top and what do you see? His head.

The clouds never cover the head. His head pokes through, because the clouds let

him; they don't wrap him up. They let him keep his head up high, free, with

nothing to hide him or bind him. Hear me…. You can't own a human being.

Guitar Bains, _Song of Solomon_ by Toni Morrison

There would be no powerful will bending hers in that blind persistence with

which men and women believe they have a right to impose a private will upon a

fellow-creature. A kind intention or a cruel intention made the act no less a crime

as she looked upon it in that brief moment of illumination.

Louise Mallard, "The Story of an Hour" by Kate Chopin

I had loved Isabella Swan since we were kids. She would visit Charlie every summer for two weeks, and Charlie brought her to the reservation to hang out with my dad and my family. Dad had two girls, Rachel and Rebecca, twins a year older than Bella, and me, a little younger. She was so pretty. I had always thought that, and she was nice and kind. She paid attention to me when my sisters ignored me. We made mud pies and played on the beach.

She hadn't been to Forks for years, but now she was returning to live with Charlie. Her mother had remarried and her husband traveled a lot, so Bella was coming to live with Charlie. I was so excited; she was the girl of my dreams, and she was coming home.

Billy, my dad, suggested that if I finished rebuilding the truck, we could sell it to Charlie for Bella. I threw myself into the task. I hoped that her knowing I had rebuilt the truck for her would impress her in some way.

I was so nervous to see her again after so many years. I didn't actually see her until she and some of her classmates came to the reservation beach. I was thrilled to see her. I reminded her of who I was, Billy Black's son, and the summers we had spent together. The Cullens were brought up, and Sam, an older boy from our tribe, emphasized that _they_ didn't come to the reservation. Bella seemed interested in that, and she asked me to walk down the beach with her. I was only too willing. She batted her eyes at me, and I was putty in her hands. She made small talk with me, and then asked me about the Cullens. I had heard the stories, but I didn't believe them: werewolves and vampires, mortal and immortal enemies. It was crazy—fantasy stuff. So I told her the stories. Quileutes were descended from men and could transform into wolves when faced with their enemies, vampires. Our tribe had a truce with the Cullens because the Cullens claimed to be different kinds of vampires, vampires who didn't hunt humans, but they still weren't allowed on our lands.

Bella listened to it all like she was entertained. It seemed so easy to be with her. She was even prettier than I remembered. One of her classmates came looking for her, a kid named Mike. I didn't like the way he looked at her, and I certainly didn't like the possessive attitude he attempted to take with her. I felt a burn of jealousy. I asked Bella if he was her boyfriend, and she assured me that he was not. I felt intense relief. They were getting ready to go. Bella seemed to follow Mike reluctantly. She said she would make an effort to come to the reservation with Charlie next time he came to our house. I was excited by the idea of seeing her again. She wasn't treating me like a child even though I was younger than she was, and she had flirted with me. I felt like I had to find a way to be with her, to make her mine.

Though I thought about her a lot, I didn't see Bella for about a week. I went about my normal routine at the reservation school, hanging out with my friends, and working on rebuilding my Rabbit. Thursday evening my dad was suddenly seized by a desire to visit Charlie to watch the baseball game, so I loaded his wheelchair into the back of the car we borrowed and drove him down to Charlie's. We arrived at the same time that Bella was dropped off by someone in a silver Volvo. Dad was rigid in the car. I didn't understand the hard look on his face. Inside the Swan's house, I helped Bella set the table. I asked her about the truck, if there was something wrong with it because she wasn't driving it. She said it was fine, though she seemed suddenly uncomfortable. I asked who the friend was who drove her home, and she reluctantly told me it was Edward Cullen. I suddenly realized my dad's reaction in the car, and it made me laugh. I couldn't believe it, crazy old man, I thought. Bella asked if Billy would try to talk to Charlie about the Cullens. I told her I doubted it. I explained that Charlie liked the Cullens; he thought the town was really lucky to have Dr. Cullen at the hospital, and Charlie and Billy had fought over their attitudes toward the Cullens before. Billy didn't want to bring that up again. The evening was pleasant. I was more interested in talking to Bella every now and again than the game. Billy seemed to enjoy himself, and though I caught him watching Bella sometimes, he didn't seem to be willing to start anything with Charlie over the Cullens. I felt content as I drove us home. It was so easy to be with Bella; I really liked her. How was I going to get her to like me back? I turned it over in my mind a lot, and I dreamed about her. I dreamed about holding her in my arms and kissing her. I dreamed that she wanted me as badly as I was beginning to want her.

Over the next few days, Billy was increasingly agitated. Sunday, Billy told me he needed to see Charlie, so I got his chair and the car ready. No one appeared to be at the Swans', but that didn't stop Billy. He insisted on waiting on the porch for them to arrive. With Harry Clearwater's fish fry on his lap, we waited. It started to rain. We saw Bella's truck turn on to the street and make its way toward us. Billy went rigid again, and I realized that Edward Cullen was driving Bella's truck; he was bringing her home. I was so embarrassed by Billy's reaction. It was hard to see clearly into the truck in the dimming light and the rain, but it looked like Edward Cullen was just as disturbed at Billy's presence as I knew Billy was by his. Edward parked the truck, but before Bella got out, he leaned over and kissed her throat. Billy's cool glare broke, he looked furious now, and he grabbed the arms of his chair. Bella got out of truck and ran toward us. She opened the door and ushered us in. Once we were inside, dad told me to look for a picture of Rebecca he said was in the car. I went back resignedly to the car to look for the picture. I suspected that Billy really wanted a chance to talk to Bella alone.

I couldn't find the damn picture. Confirming my suspicions about Billy lecturing Bella about the dangers of the vampire Cullens. He was losing it. I walked back in the house and told Billy the picture wasn't in the car. Billy surprised me by announcing that we were leaving; Charlie would be out late. I was disappointed that we weren't staying, that I wouldn't have more time with Bella. I was also jealous. Bella was obviously spending her free time with Edward Cullen. From what I had seen of him, he was good looking, and the Volvo he drove was new, so he had more money than we did. They went to school together, so he had more access to Bella than I did, and he was closer to her own age. These were all advantages that he had over me, but he couldn't know how much I wanted her.

Billy was quiet and sullen that evening. But the next day, he was alarmed and frantic. It turned out that Bella had announced to Charlie Sunday night that she wanted to leave Forks and that she was driving home to Phoenix. It got worse. We heard that Bella had been in an accident in Phoenix and was in the hospital—broken bones, lost blood, and stitches. I had never seen my father like that before. He was half-crazy with concern. He knew that Charlie would freak out if he talked to him about the Cullens and the Quileute stories of them as vampires. But he seemed to be on the verge of telling him anyway. Charlie was pretty upset, but his ex-wife was there in Phoenix, and she called every day to report on Bella's progress. The doctors said she would be fine. She regained consciousness. She was coming home. Billy was agitated and distracted, but the half-crazed phase seemed to be over. I was worried about Bella too, but I didn't think she had been attacked by a vampire. The "dark" Cullen past obviously was coloring Billy's reaction to Bella being hurt. The Cullens were there too, with Bella in Phoenix. That made me twinge with jealousy. _He_ would be there at the hospital with her, comforting her, holding her hand. How could I compete with his advantages? I was the underdog in the contest, and he just kept getting all the breaks.

With Bella home, Billy finally relaxed but not all the way. Charlie wasn't thrilled with Edward Cullen after Bella's accident. Perhaps Billy's attitude toward the Cullens colored Charlie's feelings toward Edward more than either of them realized. But Bella was still dating Edward; in fact, Edward had arranged with Charlie to surprise Bella and take her to their junior prom. Though I knew all this because Billy had told me, I was surprised when Billy offered to buy me the part I needed for the Rabbit if I would do him a favor. The favor turned about to be showing up at the prom and talking to Bella—asking her to stay away from Edward and to tell her the tribe elders would be watching both her and the Cullens. I was mortified. I refused. He begged. He offered to pay me twenty bucks in addition to the part. I couldn't believe it. He was unrelenting, and I finally caved.

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I felt awkward and self-conscious as I walked into the dance. Everyone was much more dressed up than I was. I thought about turning around and leaving, and then I saw her. She was so pretty, even more than normal in the deep blue dress with her hair done and made-up. But she was in his arms, and the way she looked at him, adoringly, lovingly, made me feel true despair. I wanted her to look at me like that. With a shock, I realized that he was glaring at me; the anger in his face was palpable. Bella noticed it too and followed his gaze. I tried to smile weakly at her; I hoped she would understand how badly I felt about doing this—crashing her prom to deliver my father's ridiculous message. Edward composed his face and released Bella when I asked to cut in. Bella seemed to suspect the reason I was there, and she wasn't mad. I was grateful for that. She asked jokingly whether any of the girls caught my eye, and I blushed and admitted that the one who had was already taken. She flushed as well and looked just as awkward as I did. I admitted that Billy had both paid and bribed me to come talk to her; she encouraged me to tell her the complete message. I explained that Billy had been half-crazy when she was hurt in Phoenix, and though she guessed at the conclusions my dad had drawn about her accident, she assured me that the Cullens had saved her life. When I told her the whole message, she was gracious about it. She was sorry that Billy coerced me to do it, and she asked me to thank Billy for her; she realized that he was only concerned about her.

The song ended, and I released her. Suddenly, Edward Cullen was right there—ready to take her back into his arms. I hated him, the sudden rage that flooded through me as he pulled her away from me and encircled her in his arms surprised me. I wanted her so badly, and I was out of my league on both counts, Bella and Edward. She was pretty and older, and he was rich and handsome, and she really cared about him—that much was obvious. Her accident had done nothing to cause friction between them. I needed a miracle, something that would drive them apart, so that I could make her see that I was the one, that I should be holding her and taking care of her. I drove home feeling dejected and desperate.

Billy was waiting for me. I told him I had delivered his message, all of it, and that Bella had thanked him for his concern. He wanted to know if it seemed like Bella would pay attention to the message, and I told him that it didn't look like it to me—Edward and Bella were dancing when I left. Billy clenched his teeth and that hard look sealed over his eyes. I wondered how far he would go to interfere with Bella's choice of boyfriend. He didn't seem to be done yet. I sighed.

That night I dreamed of Bella as usual, but whereas before, I had dreamed of walking on the beach with Bella, talking to her, making her laugh, holding her hand, holding her in my arms, kissing her—all innocent stuff, initial dating kind of stuff. Something about seeing him with her at their prom changed the tenor of my dreams. The way she adored him, worshiped him, made me think of all the things a girl would let a guy do when she felt like that toward him. I imagined him kissing her and not just on the mouth. I imagined him kissing and caressing her all over. His hands on her face, her chest, her tits, her stomach, her waist, her pussy, her thighs. I imagined Bella's thighs wrapped around him, and the thought made me so very angry. Him taking away her virginity. Him inside her. Him staining her, corrupting the body that I wanted. The loathing and animosity toward him I felt were nearly unbearable. And I found that I was angry at her too. How could she allow him to touch her like that? Then I thought of his advantages, money, looks, age, proximity. He had overwhelmed her, I decided. She was too innocent to understand he was using her, that he didn't, couldn't love her the way I could.

And then I imagined myself in his place. I imagined kissing and caressing her all over. I imagined my hands on her face, her chest, her tits, her stomach, her waist, her pussy, her thighs. I imagined Bella's thighs wrapped around me. I imagined me inside her, doing her, banging her, and I some part of me became aware that my dick was throbbing and then exploding. Dreaming about Bella had made me come in my sleep, my first wet dream—over Bella Swan. I knew it wouldn't be the last, and I wanted so badly the chance to do the things I imagined with the real Bella, not just the Bella of my dreams.

The school year ended, and the summer began. My days had a lazy rhythm. I worked on my car or other projects in the garage and hung out with Quil and Embry. The only weirdness came from watching Sam, Jared, and Paul act all tough and commanding. They called themselves the "protectors," and Sam had a surprising amount of authority with the tribe elders. I asked my father about it, but he was evasive and said I would understand soon enough. Though I dreamed about Bella all the time, I didn't see her often. I would tag along with Billy if he went to Charlie's to watch a game, and if Bella was home, she would talk to me, and we would laugh easily, and I would long for her. But sometimes she wasn't there, and I knew she was with him, with Edward. Those times were miserable—I couldn't even pay attention to the game. The summer slipped by before I knew it, and school started again. Nothing was getting me closer to Bella. Charlie mentioned Bella's birthday in passing, so I knew she had had a birthday, but I didn't see her or have any occasion to wish her best wishes.

It seemed like a day like any other. I went to school. I came home and did my homework. I worked on my car. Billy and I ate dinner. Before we were done, the phone rang. Charlie was on the phone. Bella was missing; he was worried. Billy asked me if I knew anything about Bella, but I didn't, and Billy told Charlie so. Billy said we would come over, and we left the dishers on the table and went to Charlie's. Bella's note said that she was in the forest with Edward. Charlie had called the Cullens, but they were gone. Billy was shocked, but I knew that he was shocked in a satisfied way. He was glad the Cullens were gone. Dr. Gerandy said that a hospital in Los Angeles had offered Dr. Cullen a lot of money to come there, and they had left. The Cullens had left Forks. I wondered if my chance would come at last. At least, _he_ was gone.

Charlie and his deputy organized search parties. Neighbors and local folks helped. They weren't successful; Bella was still missing. Billy asked Charlie if he could call Sam Uley; he said Sam knew the forest really well. Charlie didn't think Sam would be better than the others, but he didn't argue. Billy called Sam and relayed to Charlie that Sam and some of the others would search. It irritated me. I was with Charlie. Why would Sam or his followers be better at tracking Bella than half the men in town and the police? But I kept my mouth shut. I was worried about Bella. I didn't want anything to happen to her. It was very tense at Charlie's house. People checked in now in then, but no one found her. The hours dragged by. It had been dark a long time. Charlie was desperate. Then, Sam walked out of the forest carrying a limp Bella in his arms. Bella was found. The doctor examined her; she was okay, unharmed. Charlie thanked people, and the volunteers drifted home. We stayed a little longer than most, but then we left Charlie to tend to Bella and for both of them to sleep.

In the morning, while it was obvious that Bella was not physically hurt, she was still wounded in some fundamental way. Billy told me that Charlie said she didn't eat or leave her room for a week. Charlie was desperate again. He didn't know what to do. He didn't feel strong enough to institutionalize her. He called his ex-wife who came to Forks to take Bella to Florida. Bella flipped when they tried to pack her up. They both caved to the first strong emotions and fierce determination Bella had shown since the Cullens left. Bella stayed in Forks, and the relief I felt in knowing she was still here, near me, was intense. I had felt physically ill at the idea of her leaving.

Routines resumed. I was ecstatic the Cullens were gone, especially that one particular Cullen. I was even more pleased that Charlie was furious with Edward for the way he had abandon Bella and what that abandonment had done to her. I imagined that my being younger than Bella would be something he would hold against me, but I imagined that my age was not as important to Charlie now as me not being Edward Cullen. Charlie and Billy talked often; Bella settled into an automaton state. She went through the motions, but she wasn't normal.

I worried about Bella, but I had little opportunity to see her. I dreamed about her and masturbated thinking about her. My dreams were as explicit as ever. I imagined doing with her everything that Edward had done and more, and I fantasized that she preferred to be with me both sexually and non-sexually. I imagined that I was better than he was and satisfied her every need. I imagined that in her eyes, I didn't so much replace him, as so far outshine him that she didn't miss him anymore. I needed to find a way to actually be around her; I needed a way to make her see that I was the one for her, the only one.

The months dragged passed, and I couldn't find a reason that would allow me more access to Bella than normal. On the occasions when Billy and I went to Charlie's, she was pathetic; we could see that. She was devastated by her loss. Charlie was both angry at Edward's betrayal of Bella and sick over Bella's reaction to it.

One day in January, I heard the roar of the too familiar truck. I couldn't believe it. It had to be Bella's truck, but I didn't understand what could possibly bring her here. I looked out the window in disbelief—but there she was parking the truck. I couldn't believe it. I went to meet her—excitement coursing through me. She looked as pathetic as ever—but there was something else, a strange gleam in her eyes that I didn't understand. I smiled at her, and, to my surprise, she smiled back tentatively. We greeted each other, and she commented that I was taller, and I acknowledged that, "six five," three inches taller than last time she remarked on my height. We exchanged pleasantries, and I walked her into the house. Billy seemed worried at first that Bella's visit could mean there was something wrong with Charlie, but Bella said that she just hadn't seen me in so long. I thrilled to her words. They were everything I had hoped for and more.

Billy invited her for dinner, but she hesitated and suggested she would be around a lot more, so she didn't need to stay that night. We would have other opportunities. I felt my heart racing; this was all I had wanted—Bella around me a lot more. I asked her what she wanted to do, and she suggested whatever I was doing before. I mentioned my garage and my car, and she seemed eager to see my car, so we walked out to my garage together. I was rebuilding a 1986 VW Rabbit, and I explained that I was almost finished, especially since Billy had bought me the piece I needed most (for my service of crashing Bella's prom and delivering his warning). I watched Bella carefully. I hadn't mentioned his name outright, Edward's, but even the allusion to her memories of him cause her obvious pain. I would be careful not to mention him.

She surprised me by asking me what I "[knew] about motorcycles"; my friend had a dirt bike, so I said I knew a little and waited for her explanation. She surprised me again by telling me that she had two motorcycles in need of repair, and she asked whether I would be willing to work on them. I loved tinkering with auto mechanical stuff. It would be fun, and it would meant time with Bella or a way of pleasing her; I was in. I agreed easily. Bella warned me that Charlie would hate this, and I couldn't tell Billy—to keep it from Charlie. I agreed, no problem. She offered to pay me, but I wouldn't accept, so she offered to trade me my labor for one of the bikes.

Something changed as we talked. I didn't understand what the lure of the motorcycles held for her exactly, but whatever it was had brought her to me and made her dependent on me to fix the bikes. I could take that. She was still damaged, hurt, and cautious, but that gleam in her eyes suggested possibilities to me. It made me hope for something else between us, and I thought desperately about how I could turn that around to my advantage. We had missed each other's birthday, and when I suggested we make them up with a "date," I watched her flinch at the word. She backtracked and suggested a date might be more appropriate when the bikes were done; I took what I could get. I asked when she would bring the bikes by, and yet again I was surprised to learn that she had them in her truck that evening. We went to unload them and put them in the garage. They weren't too bad; Bella insisted she would pay for parts if I was doing the labor.

I unloaded the bikes from her truck easily, and we walked them back to the garage. I started taking apart the red bike as soon as they were inside. I had Bella sit in the Rabbit while I worked, and I told her about my school and my friends. I didn't expect a lot from her, but it was nice to be with her, comfortable, and she seemed interested in my life and what I was telling her. We were just talking about Quil and Embry, my friends, when they arrived. They didn't hide their surprise at finding me with a girl in my garage which embarrassed me intensely, and they were even worse at hiding their amusement in discovering that the girl was my long coveted Bella. They were interested in the bikes as soon as they realized that was what Bella and I were doing, so it was easy to distract their attentions to them instead of us. I realized with alarm that Bella was getting ready to go. When I tried to protest, she said she needed to go home and fix Charlie dinner.

I asked her when she would be back, and she surprised me by requesting to come back the next day. I agreed eagerly, and my fool friends embarrassed me some more by smiling at the exchange between Bella and me. She suggested that we would go for parts—insisting on paying for what we needed. As she walked away, the teasing that Quil and Embry had been badly restraining came on in full force. We jabbed at each other, and I told them that neither one of them should show up tomorrow. Though I was embarrassed and annoyed with my friends, another part of me was flying. I would rebuild the motorcycles for Bella, and her eagerness for this task would bring us together alone and unsupervised in my garage. It was like a miracle, the miracle I had been waiting for ever since I fixated my desires on her.

That night I dreamed of Bella was usual, of holding her, of touching her, of kissing her, of her calling my name, of her responding to my advances, of her asking for more, and as I dreamed of her moaning in pleasure, I was not surprised to find that I had come in my sleep, again. In the morning, I was excited by the prospect of spending the day with Bella. Charlie called to make it even better; he invited Billy up to watch the game with him and Harry; Bella and I would be completely alone, not that dad ever came out to the garage, but now we would have access to the house alone too if we wanted.

Bella arrived, and I met her at the truck with an umbrella. I studied her face carefully as she got out. She was still ashen and hallow looking, but the gleam in her eyes was still there and a little stronger or maybe a little more confidently. I smiled at her, and she smiled back, hesitantly but genuinely. I congratulated her on getting Billy out of the house and was amused at how high she had to reach to answer my "high five." Harry arrived to pick up Billy, and after they left, we left to hunt parts, first at the dump and then at the auto parts store in Hoquiam.

I made it easy for her. I just chatted about different things and kept the conversation light and flowing. I didn't want her to feel awkward or self-conscious. The topic of our ages came up. Bella clearly wanted to emphasize herself as two years older to establish or re-enforce the friendship boundary, but I wasn't having that. I argued that other factors had to be taken into account when calculating hypothetical age, things like size and skills. By the time we got back to La Push, I was seven years older than she was. We had gotten just about everything we needed from the dump and the store, and I had had the satisfaction of watching Bella become more comfortable and animated over the course of the day, but I wanted to press my advantage if I could.

We unloaded the stuff in the garage, and I set to work as she sat and watched me. The day passed easily, and Bella made no move to go home even as it began to get dark. Billy called for us from the house, and though Bella moved to try to help put things away, I told her not to bother. She reminded me of my homework, and then we were both startled to hear Charlie call Bella's name. Not good. Charlie couldn't know about the bikes. I saw Bella's panic, and I turned off the lights of the garage to hide the evidence and took her hand to lead her out. As we stumbled through the darkness, we laughed, and I did not release her hand. As we approached Charlie, I saw his eyes take in our linked hands, and though he looked surprised, I noted that he didn't look mad.

Billy had invited the whole crew for dinner, Charlie and Bella, and the Clearwaters. We ate outside; the adults talking among themselves, and Seth, Bella, and I talking quietly. Leah, Harry's daughter, was pre-occupied and quiet. Seth was slightly annoying because he was too interested in what I had to say and kept saying dumb things just be part of the conversation when all I really wanted to do was talk to Bella. She was quiet, but she seemed to be enjoying herself, and Charlie definitely seemed impressed with Bella's ease. I saw him watching her now and then, just like I did.

When it started to rain, everyone got ready to leave. Bella drove Charlie home, and I watched them drive away with both regret and pleasure. She was leaving me, but she would be back. She was comfortable with me, and she had let me hold her hand. After dinner, I went back out to the garage and worked on Bella's bike. I wanted to impress her. That night before going to bed, I masturbated as I fantasized about Bella Swan and what I wanted to do with her and her to me.

After school, I waited for Bella to come over. I studied her face as I greeted her, and it was different. Her smile held something different. I felt a rush of excitement as I realized that she was glad to see me, that being with me brought some kind of "relief" to her. Three days and she needed to be with me. I tried to keep it casual, and I walked her to the garage. She asked if I was tired of her hanging around, and I told her "no." I couldn't imagine ever being tired of Bella. I watched her as she walked into the garage and saw her bike standing. The excitement coursed through her face, and the gleam in her eye was fierce and guarded.

I was glad to impress her, but I was also worried that once the bike project was finished that I wouldn't see her as often. When I voiced this concern, she said she would come over even after the bikes were done and she seemed to mean it. I was elated, and I pressed her. I asked if she liked being with me. She said that she did and offered to have me come over to her house on Wednesday to catch up on homework. We eventually agreed to do homework twice a week, and it was hard for me to hide the pleasure I felt in knowing that Bella was planning on spending most of her free time with me. I pulled out a couple of sodas, and we toasted our new plans.

Tuesday Bella had to work, so I didn't see her. It was a long evening, but I worked on the bikes obsessively to distract myself from her absence. Wednesday I went over the Bella's, and we did homework and Bella worked on making lasagna for her and Charlie's dinner. She was a good cook, and when I admitted it, she demanded points toward her hypothetical age. They invited me to stay for dinner which I did willingly and even sent me home with a plate of lasagna for Billy. Thursday, she worked again, but Friday we spent in the garage working on the bikes. Saturday morning she worked, and then she picked me up to do homework at her house.

After the homework session on the way home, I asked her to wait for me to call her before she came over the following day. I wanted to surprise her. The bikes would be done, and we could go for our first rides. I grinned as I saw the expression on her face; she was disappointed that she would have to wait to see me. I had watched her all week. She showed genuine relief as soon as she was in my presence. The pinched set of her shoulders eased, and the slightly tense set of her face smoothed. Even her breathing seemed to come more easily. She needed me. Maybe she deluded herself by thinking that we could remain just friends, but I was replacing him. Her desperate need for him was being replaced by a desperate need for me. She was becoming_ mine_. That night I finished the bikes; all that would be left in the morning was cleaning them up and getting them ready for loading in the back of her truck.

I wondered how happy the completed bikes would make her and how I could turn that to my advantage. It didn't take me long in the morning to be done. When I called, it pleased me to hear how eager she was for the call. I told her I thought we had a "date," and she gushed over how "wonderful" I was; she awarded me ten years for my skills which put us at forty and twenty-four. When I saw her, the excitement on her face was priceless. The gleam in her eye was frantic, barely contained. I wondered again what the motorcycle ride meant for her—what she was hoping to gain from it. But I didn't ask.

It had something to do with him. I could tell by the way she was guarded about it, careful about it, calculating in some way I didn't understand. It angered me that he still drove her actions, that he still consumed her mind. But part of me knew that. Charlie had told Billy about Bella's nightmares. They began after the Cullens left; she would wake screaming in her sleep. Sometimes they were less frequent or milder, but she still had them regularly. Charlie had mentioned them again to Billy just recently. He was behind the dreams just as he was behind her motivations for the bikes. But time and proximity were on my side now. He was gone, and I was here, spending time with her, comforting her, winning her. I could be patient. The spider waiting for the fly. The hunter setting the snare. Bella would be mine in time. I was sure of it.

I directed her to a stretch of dirt road near the beach that hardly ever got traffic. As we drove, I was aware that Sam and his gang were up on the top of the cliff. It annoyed me that they were showing off again. I was trying to ignore them, so it surprised me when Bella shouted "no" and stomped on the brake of the truck. When she explained her fears, I told her that they were cliff diving and that a lot of us, the kids from the reservation, did it. Most of us did it from lower down on the cliff. I explained that Sam and his crew were just flaunting their toughness or trying to. Suddenly, the idea of cliff diving excited her, and that furious gleam in her eye sparkled. She begged me to take her cliff diving, and I agreed, but not today and not from the top of the cliff. I had to remind her of the bikes to get her attention back. She made conversation by asking about Sam and the others.

I tried to explain how Sam and his gang were all bent on protecting the tribe. It seemed ridiculous to me. We didn't need protection. They even had power with the council of elders. I was angry, and I balled my hands into fists. She asked more seeing that this really bothered me. I tried to explain, but I didn't really understand it myself. Sam and Jared and Paul. They hadn't been friends before. Paul got sick and missed some school, and then he started hanging out with Sam. It was weird. Embry was sick just recently, and now he didn't really talk to Quil and me; he just hung with Sam and the rest of them.

We were so involved in the conversation that we missed the turn and had to double back. We got out and went to the back of the truck to unload the bikes. As I pushed the red bike to her side, Bella's face suddenly looked cautious. I promised that I would help her. She snapped out of it and read my face. She saw my fears about the whole Sam thing and asked about them more pointedly. I tried to explain it was just weird "the way they look[ed] at me, the way they treat[ed] me"; it gave me the creeps. It made me feel that I was next, that they were "waiting" for me.

She asked if I had talked to Billy about it, and I told her how frustratingly unhelpful Billy had been. The fears and bitterness about all of this suddenly seemed to overwhelm me, and I was embarrassed that all of that was probably painfully transparent on my face. I balled my hands into fists again, and to my surprise, Bella suddenly wrapped her arms around me and hugged me. She was comforting me. She said that I could come and live with her and Charlie. I wound my arms around her and breathed in the scent of her hair. God, I loved this girl. I wished that I never had to let her go, or that we could stay in each other's arms forever. I reached gently to touch her hair, but she pulled away from me and tried to put the distance between us again. She mentioned our actually ages to re-enforce her friendship boundary, but she had to look up to me to do so, and I countered by mentioning my hypothetical age.

As I looked at her, she seemed so vulnerable, so delicate. She didn't seem like a child, but she was dependent, fragile, weak, and she was so pale and so pretty. I realized that she reminded me of a doll, a little porcelain China doll, and I told her so. She seemed to bridle at that, and I slipped; I nearly named them, the Cullens, the only people I had ever known who were paler than Bella. She looked away from me, but I knew it was to hide the pain she felt in thinking about them. I was usually much more careful to avoid bringing them up and to avoid the things that she seemed to associate with them or him. The music piece was a little obvious after what she had done to her car stereo, but other things were more subtle, and I had to pay attention to notice them. I distracted her by asking if she wanted to ride.

We went over all the parts of the bike. I named them and made sure she understood what they did. She seemed both terrified and determined. I got the bike started for her, and she moved the bike into first gear and began to ease up on the clutch with me coaching her the whole time. I was backing away to give her some room, but something seemed to startle her, and she let go of the clutch suddenly. The bike jerked violently, and then fell down on top of Bella. I cried out her name in horror and pulled the bike off of her. She said she was fine, but I wasn't so sure. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, but she wanted to try again. Her face was alight with anticipation.

She started the bike herself this time, and she successfully released the clutch this time and started riding away from me. I watched her go. Everything seemed fine at first, but then the road curved, and she wasn't making the turn. The bike faltered and then crashed to the ground. I kicked my bike to life and raced to her side. I pulled the bike off of her. She had hit her head and was bleeding from the wound. She assured me she was "great" and asked to ride again. Her eyes were bright with excitement, something about the gleam in her eye seemed satisfied or engaged in a way. She didn't seem to realize she was bleeding. As soon as she did, she apologized for that, and I couldn't imagine why she felt the need to. I pulled her to her feet and put my arm around her. I demanded her car keys, and left her there while I rode my bike back to her truck and put it in the bed, and then drove the truck to get her and her bike.

I gave her my T-shirt to press against her cut and put her bike in the bed. Then I put my arm around her again and helped her into the truck. Bella insisted on going home to change into less conspicuous clothes before going to the Emergency Room, so Charlie or anyone else wouldn't suspect the cause of the accident. Reluctantly I drove us to drop off the bikes and then to her house to change before taking her the hospital. Her cover story was lame: she tripped and hit her head in my garage. On the way to the hospital, I flushed with pleasure, as I realized that Bella was appraising my bare chest. She told me I was "beautiful," and though I tried not to let it go to my head and take her complement lightly, I thought my heart would burst through my chest.

She needed seven stitches at the hospital, and I got to hold her hand through the whole procedure. She insisted that she was well enough to drive herself home, but she let me drive us to my house before taking the wheel and going home. That night I carefully went over the moments before Bella threw her arms around me and the conversation that we had had. What was the trigger? What had caused Bella to abandon her restraint and show her emotions. I was talking about Sam and my fears of being the next recruit to "the La Push gang," and it occurred to me that it was the pain and fear I felt; she couldn't bear my pain. I grinned to myself; that was handy. I could use that.

We went riding again on the following Wednesday. Again she was eager for it, and the gleam in her eye was almost hungry for it. She was doing really well at first until she hit the brake too hard and went flying off the bike into a tree. She scared me half to death. Dr. Gerandy left Charlie a message telling him to check on Bella regularly during the night because of her concussion. I worried that Charlie would start to object to Bella seeing me if she kept getting hurt in my company, so I was relieved when she suggested laying off the bikes for a while. While we considered other activities, I watched a range of emotions flit across her face. There was obviously conflict over whatever she was thinking about. I asked her about it, and she told me that she found a beautiful meadow in the forest once and wondered if we might look for it. I was game. We would go on Saturday afternoon, after Bella's shift at the Newton store.

When Bella arrived, she sat and talked to Billy while I studied her map and drew a grid pattern across the area of the map that Bella had referenced. Bella was nervous about Charlie knowing she was in the forest, but I knew Billy wouldn't care. Some hikers had gone missing in recent weeks, and there were strange reports about bear sightings. I even joked with Billy about meeting one of the bears on our hike. Bella drove to the starting place, and I was surprised to see that she pointed into the forest away from the trail instead of following it. I took stock of the compass and the map, and we set off to explore the first line of the grid I had drawn on the map. I kept pace with Bella and checked the compass and the map off and on.

In making conversation, she asked about Embry. I was slightly ahead of her, so before I explained, I let her catch up with me. Embry was still avoiding me and "still with Sam." I was upset about Embry, and I let that show on my face as I put my arm around her. It was all the same as I had described it the other day. She offered her couch again, and I laughed it off. We continued to hike. We didn't find the meadow and took another grid line path back to her truck. She seemed a little dejected by our lack of success, but I assured her we would find it in time. We agreed to try again the next day, and we joked about the bears and being edible. I suggested that she might be good to eat, but I don't think she realized the way I meant the comment.

We slipped into an easy routine. When Bella wasn't at work or school, she was usually with me. Her attachment became clearer and clearer—if not to her than to me, and I knew Charlie was noticing it too. That it didn't worry Charlie, I was pleased to discover. I had been a little worried that he would insist on her seeing her other friends too, but it didn't seem to bother him that she was swapping out one obsessive relationship for another. Maybe he just trusted me more, trusted that as his friend's son, I would never hurt her, and I never would.

She wasn't completely healed. I knew that, but she was less pathetic. She could enjoy herself with me. Color returned to her face, and her eyes danced at times. She looked so different from the lifeless zombie who showed up with two forbidden motorcycles and a mad plan to get them running again. I was her trusted accomplice, her secret sharer. Through our shared adventures, our closeness deepened. Holding her hand and putting my arms around her were things she resisted less often now; the trick was moving beyond holding hands and putting an arm around her. So it was with anticipation that I looked forward to her after-school visit on Valentine's Day.

I would "be persistent." I would be the stream that wore through the stone cliff, a slow and persistent erosion of her resistance. Laughing with her, holding her hand, putting my arm around her, kissing her and more. She repeatedly tried to establish the boundaries of our relationship; she wanted friendship, and I had given her that, but she was so destroyed and so utterly dependent on me now, that I knew I could get her past her boundaries. Hand holding and having my arm around her could be innocent enough. I imagined her real resistance would come with kissing and more intimate sexual contact. How could I shatter her resistance? It occurred to me that the hardest part, the most self-conscious part, the part she would resist the most, was starting such relations. But what if she just found herself in the middle of doing or having done it. Once we had been intimate, would she really object to us being so again?

How to be intimate without her being able to fight me too hard? The date rape drugs occurred to me. I had heard of both rohypnol and GHB, and one of them was something they said anyone could make from fairly common household supplies. The idea of caressing and even having sex with an unconscious Bella was not what I wanted, even aside from the criminal implications of such acts. But what if that was the only way I could have Bella? I realized if it was the only way, I would have taken it. But I wanted Bella touching me and kissing me back, and she needed to remember what we had done or enough of it, so she could believe that she had chosen this—of being intimate with me. What I needed was to take away all her inhibitions or enough of them that she would be ineffective at fighting against me. It occurred to me that the answer was not in drugs but in alcohol. I needed to get her drunk. Not wasted drunk, just tipsy enough to let me kiss her and touch her. We had time. The right opportunity would present itself when she was ready.

I knew she would be completely oblivious to the date. I had a box of Valentine hearts for her. When she pulled up, I wished her a happy Valentine's Day and was amused to see how off guard the date caught her. I asked her to be my Valentine and offered her the candy. She was cautious and asked what that involved. I wanted to take the pressure off, so I joked that being my Valentine involved being my "slave for life." She still looked cautious but shrugged it off and accepted both the candy and the status. An image of Bella as my slave suddenly flashed through my mind with graphic clarity, and I struggled to distract myself by asking about tomorrow's activities.

She decided we would hike, and I suggested that we could ride the bikes on Friday, but she told me she had plans with her school friends on Friday. They were all going to a movie. I knew disappointment flooded my face at the news, and I looked away. She surprised me by inviting me as well. I hesitated and asked if she really wanted me there, but she said yes, and told me to invite Quil as well. Quil would like that, and I chuckled as I realized it was my disappointment, my unhappiness, that forced her to change her plans so that they included me. It wasn't a date, but it was a public outing, and I liked that idea very much. That night I finished the Rabbit. I would surprise Bella with it Friday afternoon.

In my dreams, I came back to the image of Bella as my slave, and I imagined her as my willing sexual slave—touching me, kissing me, having sex with me, and asking for more. Then the images shifted, I held her in my arms, and she tried to pull away, but I overpowered her; she was my slave afterall. I pushed her down on to a bed. She struggled, but I held her fast and ripped her clothes off. I kissed her roughly. Her resistance only fed my passion. I tore my shirt off and pulled my pants down. I pressed my body against her, and I felt her flesh beneath mine. I caressed her and rubbed myself against her, and her resistance faded. My mouth trailed over her skin, and I pressed myself into her. She succumbed to my will and moaned in pleasure, and I woke up with sweat pouring off me with my dick throbbing and aching for lease. I came easily to the image of _taking_ Bella and her realizing that that was what she really wanted.

Friday, I was waiting for her after school outside of her house, standing against the car smiling. She seemed almost as excited as I was when I finished it. She gave me a high five which I returned and used it as an excuse to entwine our fingers. Her friend, Mike, pulled up in his car, and Bella pulled her hand out of mine; he was the guy from that first day at the beach, the first day I had seen Bella in years. He was the one who was possessive of her, who wanted to appear like her boyfriend. My jealousy flared. I didn't like him. I didn't want to think about Bella with anyone but myself. When I asked her about him, she whispered that he was "hard to discourage." So Mike was still pressing Bella to go out. I knew all about persistence, and I told her "sometimes persistence pays off." I knew I was warning her, but she didn't get it. She introduced us.

It got a little awkward. Quil wasn't able to come on my side and apparently most of her friends either had other commitments or were sick with some stomach flu. Great, I thought. Me and Bella and Mike, and all Mike and I really wanted was to be alone with Bella. Mike was obviously also disturbed by the prospect. I let him glower and tried to keep it light. Mike suggested that we postpone the outing. He could stay home if he wanted, but I was pushing to go. Mike wouldn't be left behind, and Bella asked him if I could drive because I had just finished rebuilding the Rabbit. The pride in her voice sent shivers of delight through my body. Mike continued to be sullen, so Bella paid attention to me as I babbled about this and that.

Mike asked me to turn on the radio, and I objected that "Bella [didn't] like music." Bella's eyes flashed to my face. I knew she was surprised that I had noticed. Mike grumbled but let it drop. At the theater, Bella laughed that she had to buy my ticket to the R-rated movie, and I told her that I had told Billy she was "[corrupting] my youthful innocence"—of course, I had much more explicit ideas for the form of that corruption, but we weren't there yet. The movie was a complete blood and guts fest. Bella was watching, but she didn't seem really engaged in the movie. The fakeness of the special effects made me laugh, and I commented on the impossibility of some of it. Bella seemed much more engaged after that and often laughed with me. Both Mike and I were hoping for the opportunity to hold Bella's hand, so we both had our hands held awkwardly on the arm rests waiting. Mike suddenly seemed to feel ill and left the theater after saying so. Bella followed him, so I rose with her and followed too.

When I checked, Mike was in the bathroom throwing up. At first, I thought the movie had gotten to him, and I teased Bella about going out with such a wimp. I sat down on a bench and motioned for Bella to join me. I said Mike sounded like he wouldn't be done soon. She sat down cautiously, anticipating that I would take advantage of our being alone. I put my arm around her as soon as she sat down. When she protested, I took my arm away but took her hand in mine refusing to let it go when she tried to pull away.

I told her that I wanted to talk to her, and I did. I wanted her to know that I liked her, and I wanted to know how much she liked me. I knew that we liked each other differently. I knew I loved her, and I knew that she thought she could only feel friendship for me. But I wanted her to admit just how much she liked me, perhaps to begin to understand that she couldn't be without me. So I asked her questions that forced her to admit she liked me more than anyone else. That was what I needed. I told her I would be "annoyingly persistent"—and I intended to be. I would wear her resistance down, and she would belong to me. She protested that her attitude wouldn't change, but I knew I had the advantage of time and no real competition. She liked being with me, and I liked being with her. I told her it was enough, and it was enough for now. I asked her if she really minded me holding her hand; she said "no" but protested that holding hands meant different things to each of us, but I told her "that [was]_ my_ problem."

Holding her right hand like that I noticed the scar there. I traced my finger over the scar and realized that it seemed cold and that seemed odd to me. I asked her how she had gotten it, but she deflected the question. At that moment, Mike came out of the bathroom looking terrible. He asked if we could leave; he explained that he thought he had the stomach flu that some of their classmates had. Bella told him he should have said something earlier; as we went to leave, I asked the girl behind the counter for a large container for the ride home. She seemed only too happy to have us out of the theater. We got in the car, and I handed Mike the container. We put the windows down to give Mike the fresh air, but it also had the advantage of making Bella cold, and I put my arm around her immediately. Bella thought I felt like I had a fever, but I assured her that I was fine. Mike puked into the container before we were able to get him to Bella's house. She drove Mike and his car home while I followed, and then I drove her home.

In the car on the ride home, I realized that I felt strange. My heart started racing. I did feel hot suddenly, and my body felt tingly sometimes in isolated places and some times all over. I told Bella I thought she was right about my fever. She wanted me to call her when I got home. Before I let her go, I took hold of her wrist and wouldn't let it go. I wanted to tell her that "I [would] always be here" that she could "count on me" and that "I would never, ever hurt [her]." She assured me that she knew I meant what I said, and I left her eager to get home, to be done driving the car, so I could focus on whatever was happening to me.

It was hard to concentrate as I drove. I began to feel like I was burning up. A strange kind of frantic energy was coursing through me. I had a strong desire to stop the car and just run through the forest to burn off this crazy energy. Tingling pain shot through my muscles. I was more and more alarmed. What could possibly be causing my symptoms? I must have looked a sight when I walked through the door because Billy looked staggered as soon as he saw me. He asked me if I was alright and told me to lie down on the couch. I felt too weird to ignore him, so I did as he said. He went right to the phone and called Sam. I couldn't believe it. The old man was losing it. Then, Billy wheeled over beside me and looked at me very gravely.

He told me it was my turn to understand what was going on. My turn to understand what had happened to Sam and the others. He reminded me of the legends of our tribe—"the spirit warriors," "the wolves who turned into men," "the cold ones." Then he told me that what was happening to me; he said that I was turning into man who could turn into a wolf; I was turning into a werewolf. I asked if he had been drinking, but he swore it was true. Sam's gang wasn't a gang; it was a pack of werewolves. Pain wracked through my system, and I started vibrating. Billy urged me to get up and stand in the backyard. I struggled to do as he said. Suddenly I was afraid of the vibrating—I was afraid that I could hurt my father if I continued to vibrate near him. The cold air felt strangely soothing against my burning flesh. The tingling and vibrating continued until my whole body was quaking. The quaking became more and more violent, and then I felt myself burst apart. I was shocked to find that I wasn't dead. I was a gigantic wolf, and then I wasn't alone in my own mind. Sam and the others were talking to me. They could hear my thoughts, and I could hear theirs. I ran into the forest, and they came to meet me. We ran together, and they started at the beginning and explained everything in more detail than the legends or Billy had.

The speed at which we could run was exhilarating. All my senses were enhanced—my eyesight, my hearing, my sense of smell. And we ran, and they explained more. The weird wolfy things like imprinting and the pack things like the power of the Alpha's command. It was dream-like and impossible, and yet I was a wolf, with reddish-brown fur and razor sharp teeth. They, my pack brothers, also explained why this had happened to us when it had not happened to our fathers or their fathers.

Being werewolves was secret. Sam commanded me to keep the secret, and I felt the force of the Alpha command. My mind thought instantly of Bella, and Sam answered me, "No." I couldn't stop the longing that flooded my thoughts. Sam tried to comfort me by thinking of his own betrayals to Leah and to Emily. I could feel it; his love for Leah being trumped, rendered meaningless, by the force of imprinting on Emily, and then the accident. Phasing too closely to Emily and slashing her face before he could regain control. His permanent gift that he could never take back, the constant reminder of the monster he was—what the Cullens had driven him to become. And I felt his absolute hatred of them. But Bella knew the secret, I thought desperately, and Sam flashed through the slashing of Emily's face more graphically to emphasize that it was not safe. I could do that to Bella. I had to stay away from her; our relationship had to end. It was better to think about a girl from our tribe or a Native American anyway, someone who had been raised to know and accept our traditions and beliefs, but I didn't want anyone if I couldn't have Bella.

Bitterness flooded through me, and I understood Sam's hatred. I hated them too—not just Edward but all of them—those who would separate me from _my_ Bella. But they were gone, I thought hopelessly, and Sam answered me. It was _too_ late, their presence had started the transformations. Their absence didn't stop the process, besides there was at least one other hunting humans around Forks. We were still needed, "the protectors" of our tribe. He flashed through the images of the red-headed female vampire who kept returning to Forks.

Sam had the others phase back and talked with me alone. He reminded me of my ancestry, Ephraim Black, the last official leader of our tribe and the last Alpha, as my one great-grandfather and Quil Ateara as my other great-grandfather; I had werewolves on both sides of my family. I realized what he meant. I was supposed to be the Alpha; it was my hereditary right. I saw the obligation that status imposed, and I wanted nothing to do with it. I didn't want any of this. I wanted to be with Bella. I saw how one stopped being a werewolf. You needed to learn enough control to stop phasing, and I couldn't imagine that kind of control. The slightest thing seemed likely to send tremors through this new body, and it was the same for all of us—except Sam. Of course, Sam had been dealing with it longer. With relief I realized, he was content to be the Alpha.

Suddenly, I wasn't just thinking of my own pain at being separated from Bella. I thought of what it would do to her. I had slowly, carefully nurtured her dependence on me, and I knew she was dependent on me. She needed me. I had given her a friendship to counter the overwhelming loss she felt at loosing him—I couldn't even think his name for the loathing I felt, the filthy "bloodsucker," and now I would leave her too. Sam felt my panic, and he countered that loosing him had been worse, and he thought back to that night Bella had been lost in the woods and how he had found her. I saw in his mind the pathetic state he found her in. She was curled into a ball, her face ashen, her eyes hallow and hopeless, murmuring over and over again that "he [was] gone." She was utterly bereft. He had never seen anything like it and never wanted to again. It would hurt her to be separated from me, but with a stab of jealousy, I realized that she wasn't as wholly dependent on me as she had been to _him_, the unnatural "leech."

And then I was full of revulsion. Bella had known; she had known _what_ he was, and she had chosen him anyway. It was beyond comprehension. The instinct to kill a vampire was deeply hard-wired to my werewolf identity. Through my pack brothers' memories, I smelled them—their unnatural "sickly sweet" smell brought out a furious desire to attack, to fight, to rip them apart, to kill them. We had the treaty with the Cullens, and I understood it intellectually, but another more primal part of me longed to kill them. Like Sam, I had other reasons to hate the Cullens besides them being vampires. I had Bella, and yet I couldn't wrap my mind around the idea that she had known he was a "bloodsucker" and had chosen him anyway.

I didn't call Bella that night. Over the next few days, she called again and again, and Billy put her off. I felt near physical pain from the separation that I knew would need to be permanent, but they all told me it was for the best. I longed for Bella. I fantasized about her—about some how making my being a werewolf and her being a normal girl okay. I began fantasizing about her sexually and masturbated to the images in my head. In the release I felt as I came, I suddenly realized that he couldn't have done the things with her that I had imagined. As a vampire, just being near her would be a challenge, and yet, I had seen them at their prom. He held her in his arms greedily. I was sure they had some how conquered kissing too—though the idea of Bella being close to those teeth was both alarming and repulsive. I wondered how much more his self-control would have permitted. I was sure they couldn't have had sex—and I was filled with a wild optimism that I could be the one; I could be her first lover, and then I remembered I was werewolf and was not supposed to see her. But Sam had not forbidden me to see her. Perhaps there was a way around our separation after all. I would need to be careful with my thoughts around the others.

Though I couldn't see Bella that she was aware of, I couldn't stay away from her—not with a leech around. Most nights I spent at least some time roaming the woods near her house to make sure she was safe. I had evaded Bella for a week, and I was miserable and lonely despite four people in my head giving me encouragement and attempting to sympathize with my feelings. I tried to block out my most private thoughts of Bella, but we were all adolescent boys, and we all had erotic fantasies about girls and we had all masturbated to those fantasies. In truth, the most tantalizing of our experiences was that Sam was having sex with Emily, but he tried to keep that as private as he could. We tried not to think about our shared sexual urges because it became a bizarre sexual orgy of sorts when all of them flowed together. We were successful in repressing that aspect most of the time.

It was Saturday, and I was running with my brothers, and we caught the scent of a "leech." With the Cullens gone, we swept through their territory as well sometimes, and Jared had caught the sent near their place on a solo patrol run, and we were following it. As the scent got fresher and fresher, I realized with surge of panic that this was the area of the forest where Bella searched for her beautiful meadow. I rejected the thought; Bella wouldn't have gone without me, and yet, I hadn't spoken to her for a week. I didn't know the state of her mind. We ran faster, and as we closed on the "leech," we crossed Bella's scent, and I my mind went wild. Sam commanded me to stay in control. Though the treaty conditions were only violated if one of the Cullens bit a human, we would act if this "leech" seemed threatening to Bella. We didn't recognize him as a Cullen, but we couldn't be sure that he wasn't some sort of relative; he had started at Cullen territory, and the treaty meant that we needed to be respectful of that possibility.

Bella recognized him and called him by name, Laurent. She tried to fake a nonchalance, but she was obviously tense. He closed on her and began talking about his thirst. I urged Sam to go. I didn't want Bella bitten before we acted, and I was relieved when he agreed. Sam moved into the clearing followed by Jared and Paul. Embry and I flanked them. The "leech" was clearly terrified of us as we moved toward him, and so many of us. Bella was also frozen in terror. I was closest to Bella. When she gasped, I turned to look at her. My eyes met her frightened gaze hoping some how to convey that it was me, and that I loved her, and would do anything to protect her. Sam barked his command for my attention, and I had no choice but to obey. I refocused on the "leech" who bolted into the forest, and we followed afterward—delighting in the chase and eager for the kill. With five of us, it was ridiculously easy. Sam caught him at his throat, and the four of us ripped his limbs off as Sam decapitated him. All that was left was burning the pieces. We phased back to human forms to burn him; somehow the sickly sweet smell when burning was actually tolerable, pleasant even in a weird way.

The next week Bella continued to call, and Billy continued to buffer me. In addition to my guilt over Bella, I felt guilt over avoiding Quil who was looking for me and had to be scared that this was coming for him too—though he didn't understand what "it" was. Quil had seen me and tried to follow me into the forest. But I had phased and run away from him. I couldn't tell him until it happened to him too; if it happened, and a huge part of me wished he could be spared this fate. There were five of us already; there didn't seem to be a need for more. We came out of the woods together in our human forms by my house, and I could see Bella's truck parked waiting for me. Sam reminded me that I had to end it. I had to tell her we couldn't be friends. I thought I would die. I wanted to die. Anything was better than being the monster that I was.

I knocked on her truck door and asked her what she wanted; my tone was menacing and unfriendly. She looked at me in shock. She took in the all the changes that seemed impossible in two weeks, my cropped hair and the changes to my face and body. The transformation into a werewolf had vastly accelerated my physical maturation. I was huge and muscular. I looked more like a twenty-five year old weight lifter than a gangly tall sixteen year old. I watched her face fall when she read the anger and bitterness in mine. She said my name, and the hesitation in her voice made the pain and agony I felt swell again. She saw the others watching and waiting for me, and I could see the anger in her face. Crazy Bella wanted to protect me from my brothers; she didn't understand. I asked her again what she wanted, and she told me that she wanted to talk to me. I told her to talk, and she qualified that she wanted to talk alone. Sam gave me his permission, and then he led the others into my house.

She didn't seem to trust Sam and the others from interfering with our conversation, so she insisted that we walk into the forest a little ways. I told her she was wrong. What I thought before and what I had told her were wrong. She wanted an explanation, and I had to tell her that I couldn't tell her. She said she "thought we were friends," and I countered by telling her "we were." She argued with me, but I couldn't tell her what I was. I tried to explain that Sam was helping me. She tried to hug me, but I moved away. I couldn't bear the pain of holding what I couldn't have and I couldn't bear the possibility of hurting her like Sam had done to Emily—even by accident. I told her not to "touch me" and to "stop blaming Sam."

She demanded to know who to blame, and I didn't want to do it to her. I knew that mentioning them, the Cullens, would cause her physical pain. I asked her not to make me, but she insisted. I told her it was "the filthy, _reeking_ bloodsuckers that [she] loved so much." The shock and pain that flashed over her face were every bit as intense as I had imagined. I felt bad in a fleeting sort of way, but I was also glad to vent my repulsion at the choices she had made and to voice my absolute disapproval for those choices. She was as stubborn as ever. She refused to believe that I meant the Cullens. She was going to force me to name them despite the pain it would cause her. I asked her not to make me say their name, but she did, and I spat it out: "the Cullens."

She insisted they weren't to blame; they were gone, and I explained that their presence had set this all "in motion"—though she didn't understand what I meant. I tried to end the conversation and walked back toward my house. She distracted me by telling me about her encounter with Quil that day, and the guilt I felt about staying away from Quil was overwhelming. I brought my fist down on a tree in frustration and was alarmed that the tree snapped in two. Being alone with Bella was dangerous; I could do that to her. I hurried back to the house.

She taunted me, and I turned on her and tried to end it. I told her we couldn't be friends. The devastation that played on her face was unbearable. She struggled for words, and asked if I was "breaking up with [her]"—and though I knew that was not exactly what she meant and only the best way she could articulate the pain of our separation, that was exactly how I felt—that I was being forced to break up with her and the future with her that I so desperately wanted. There were more angry words, and I looked desperately into her eyes trying to convey everything that I wasn't allowed to say, so she would know that I still loved her.

She needed me so desperately that she struggled for words. Separation was not an option for her—as I had known; she suggested that she could relax her friendship barrier, and I was tormented by the ache and longing I had had to hear those very words. I choked out the words it was my fault not hers, and I told her that "I [was] not good." I apologized and ran for the house. Even worse than ending it, telling her good-bye, was knowing that she stood there by her truck dumbstruck by the betrayal I had delivered. Sam ordered me out the back with my brothers to run through the forest and distract myself some how. Billy agreed to intervene and send her home.

When I got home, the waves of guilt flooded over me when Billy told me about the angry conversation he had had with Charlie about Bella and me. I had to find some way to make it right. So I phased and ran to her house and phased back and scratched the glass of her bedroom window. When Bella came to the window, she seemed nearly paralyzed with fear, but when she heard me call her name and recognized my voice, she relaxed. I told her to open the window and move away, and I bounded easily into her room.

As I entered her room, I smelled the stale "sickly sweet" scent of vampire—months old but pervasive in every corner of her room, and I felt a shock of revulsion. He had spent nights with her here, nights, under Charlie's nose, doing God knows what with her, maybe without her knowing God knows what. I struggled to bring my mind back to the present. Bella was angry with me. I had hurt her too badly outside my house. She asked me to leave. I told her I came to say I was sorry. She tried to push me back to the window, but her strength was useless against mine. Her hands pressed against my bare chest, and that was all I could think about. Suddenly, she was unsteady on her feet; she was physically exhausted, so I led her back to her bed.

She wanted to know why I was there, and I wanted to explain but I couldn't; I apologized again and tried to explain that I couldn't leave her thinking that I had abandon her. I wasn't sure how to lead her through the thought process I needed her to travel. I began by asking her if she had ever had a secret that wasn't hers to tell. Her eyes widened. She knew exactly what I meant and couldn't tell me for some of the same reasons I couldn't tell her. She was so tired. I could see that, but I still pressed her to understand, to make the connections herself. If she remembered all the stories I had told her that first day on the beach, she would know what I was as much as she knew what he was. I begged her to figure it out, to concentrate on what I had told her that first day on the beach.

I suddenly had to know. I wanted to know if I had been the one to tell her what the Cullens were. When I asked her, she became guarded and careful. I reminded her how secrets made people "loyal." She asked if there wasn't some way for me to break free, and I told her I was in it "for life." It broke my heart when she then suggested that we run away together. There was nothing more in my life that I wanted more than to seize that possibility, but I couldn't. I couldn't change what I had become, and I couldn't run away from that responsibility. I told her I had to leave and tried to explain that I wasn't supposed to see her. She told me not to tell them, but I knew they would know; they would see it in my head. She didn't understand. She was suddenly angry at Sam, and I tried to explain that Sam and the others were helping me and that it wasn't safe to be with her.

Before I left her, I challenged her to figure it out—the story that would explain why I was being distant with her. Then a part of me flared with anger and bitterness. She had chosen the vampire. What if she found the werewolf monstrous? I suggested that she call if she didn't "want to see me again." Before I left her, I pulled her into a tight embrace and hugged her like it was the last time I would touch her. It took me a while to realize that she was gasping, saying that she couldn't breathe. I released her, and I told her to get some sleep and left silently down the stairs and out the front door.

That night as we ran patrols over our territory and the Cullens', we caught her scent, the red-headed female vampire, and cased her past Mount Vernon. The scent enraged us to the point of frenzy; we wanted a fight, but she didn't make any sense. She didn't engage us, and she ran way, but she kept coming back. What did she want? After the chase, I had bizarre dreams centered around Bella. In one, I imagined her with her vampire in her bedroom, touching and kissing; it was horrifying, but there was a sick fascination to it, and I couldn't help but watch. In another, I held Bella down and had sex with her, so she would know it was better with me, so she would know what I could do with her that he couldn't. In another, it was just him and me, and we were fighting, and I was beating him, ripping pieces of him apart, killing him, eliminating him. In another, the red-headed vampire was chasing something I wanted, but she was ahead of me, and I couldn't see the object of her pursuit. Then the dreams trailed off. In the morning, when I got out of bed, Billy told me that Bella had been there, and that she was waiting for me at the beach. I was elated. She had figured it out so quickly, and she was here—she still wanted to see me, even though I was a monster.

I ran to the beach. She was sitting on a piece of drift-wood. When I called her name, she stood up and faced me. The expression on her face was different than I expected. She was there to reject me; I was both furious and hurt. She could accept a vampire but not me. I didn't try to hide my anger as I demanded to know why she had come when she could have just called. She answered that she wanted to tell me in person. She started to warn me about the rangers and hunters searching the woods for the giant wolves. I was dismissive. We knew, I told her. She asked me to "try _not_ to be a … werewolf." I was seething. I could feel the tremors start, and I couldn't stop them. I called her a "hypocrite," and I apologized for not being the kind of monster that appealed to her, a vampire.

She was angry now too. She told me it wasn't "what [I] was … it [was] what [I did," and she asked me if I had to "_kill _people." I stared at her, and I suddenly realized that we were having a miscommunication. The tremors stopped. She thought we were responsible for the missing hikers; she was upset with me not because I was a gigantic dog but because she thought I was a murderer. I had to make sure. I asked her to explain what she was taking about. She said she didn't care that I was a werewolf; I was only monstrous if I "hurt" other people. I couldn't believe it. Relief flooded through me, and I started to laugh. I walked over to her and pulled her into a hug; I was so happy that it obscured everything else, and it took me a while to realize that she was gasping again, begging for me to release her.

I dropped my arms but held both of her hands in mine, and I promised her that I wasn't a "killer." She was so relieved that she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me back. She had questions, of course, and I tried to answer them. I told her that werewolves only protected people from one enemy, vampires, that their existence necessitates ours. She realized there was a vampire hunting around Forks. At first, she thought it was the one from the meadow who she had called Laurent. She realized that it had been us in the meadow when the "leech" had tried to attack her. I tried to explain that we had killed him after we drove him away from her. I made sure she wasn't mad that we had killed him; he didn't bite her after all; we had acted preemptively.

Then she told me that she had been terrified every night, waiting for him to come for her. I felt so badly that she had been so scared. I told her she should have told me. She shot back that I had been avoiding her at that time. I tried to explain that my brothers had told me to stay away from her for her own safety. She didn't understand that at first, but then she remembered how my body had vibrated. I was mortified; I had been on the verge of losing control near Bella; I could have hurt her. I explained that if I lost control, got too upset, I would turn into a werewolf. I tried to comfort her; we were working on the situation; we would deal with it (Bella and I together).

Suddenly, she realized that it wasn't over. That there was another vampire still hunting, and I explained about the "leech's" mate, the red-headed female. As I talked, panic surged through Bella, and she made several dry heaves and then became limp. I caught her and demanded that she tell what was wrong. She choked out the name, Victoria, and she began to explain. Victoria's mate was James, not Laurent. Victoria was after Bella. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Edward had killed James, and Victoria wanted to kill Bella—the black haired "leech" from the meadow had explained this to Bella before we drove him off. She struggled to get out the next part that Victoria obviously didn't know that they, Bella and Edward, weren't together anymore, that he had left her.

Though I was sorry for her pain, I felt a surge of triumph. The stupid "bloodsucker" had left her, ended their relationship, didn't want her any more. I would make it up to her. Now that she knew what I was, we would find a way to be together, and I would make her never feel pain for that "bloodsucker" again. When she said that she was "nothing special," I couldn't contain my indignation, and I "growled" through my teeth. I started to abuse him verbally, but she begged me to stop; it was too painful for her. I stood up supporting her as I did. I needed to get her information to Sam. I took her to her truck and ran into the woods to phase. Once a wolf, I quickly told the others to meet me, keeping my information brief and limited. I phased back and rejoined Bella.

She was clearly terrified, and I tried to soothe her, and ridiculously, she was afraid more for us than for herself. She asked where I had gone when I left her alone. I hesitated—it might seem too strange. I explained that as wolves we could hear each other's thoughts. She didn't seem to be terribly bothered by it. I told her she was "good with weird." She told me that Edward could read minds. I didn't like that; our legends suggested that some "bloodsuckers" had extra abilities, but we hadn't believed them.

As we went to meet Sam and the others, I explained to Bella how Sam was the Alpha of our pack and that his orders had to be followed. I told her there were other "wolf things" that I was still learning. I told her how scary my transformation had been, and how much harder it had been for Sam to go through it alone—being the first to transform. I warned her that the others would be annoyed that she was with me, but I told her that it was important for her to be there; she had information we needed and could use. Edward came up, and I knew that thinking about him caused her pain; I tried to suggest that it was better she wasn't involved with him, but she shut down the conversation; she couldn't bear to talk about it.

I expected my brothers to be angry. They would have been puzzled and mad that I had been able to get passed Sam's order not to tell Bella. But once they got passed that, Bella had information we needed, and they would see that. Paul, of course, was the most belligerent, and soon he was shaking with rage. I moved between Bella and Paul, and that completely set him off. He phased and got ready to spring. I leaped at Paul and phased as I lunged. Paul and I were tackling each other and snarling as wolves. I drove Paul into the forest away from Bella, and we continued to brawl. I heard Sam order Bella to stay still and then for Embry and Jared to take Bella to Emily's. As we fought, I was able to sink my teeth into one of Paul's front legs. He had it coming, trying to attack Bella like that. Paul started to calm down, and he heard the conversation I had had with Bella in my mind, and he was stunned. He apologized, and we phased back and went to find Sam to explain and then rejoin the others. Sam was stunned too. Knowing what the red-head wanted would make it easier. I was forgiven. I told Sam I wanted Bella on the reservation as much as possible, and he said the choice would be hers.

Paul and I were mock fighting when we entered Emily's. The food smelled intoxicating, and I was suddenly ravenously hungry. Bella stood anxiously at the kitchen counter picking at a muffin. Her face relaxed as soon as she saw me—just like always. Though she was nervous, she was "holding up." Bella seemed stunned by the wolfy way we healed; there was a mark on Paul's arm, but I explained that even that would be gone by nightfall. I assured her I was fine. Sam told the others that I had information for them, and I explained that the red-head wanted Bella and why. Jared, Embry, and Emily were all surprised by this information. They all reappraised Bella then. Jared suggested Bella as "bait," and I threw something at him, but we all saw that we could use Bella or the red-head's desire for Bella to lure her to where we wanted her. We talked strategy, dividing up, and such.

Sam then spoke to Bella and told her that I wanted her at La Push as often as she could be until this situation was dealt with. She was instantly worried about her father, and I told her that I would have Billy work on that. Sam returned to Bella at La Push and told her that she had to make that choice—because there were risks to being around werewolves; Paul's attack and Emily's face were the graphic reminders. She chose to accept the risks. Again Bella worried about us, and she asked us to be careful. We all (my wolf brothers at least) busted up laughing at her concern. After breakfast at Emily's, Bella and I spent most of the day at my house; she called her dad and invited him for dinner. Charlie arrived with pizza. I noticed Charlie watching us during dinner. He was obviously trying to take in the way I had grown and changed since the last time he had seen me. He asked about my hair cut, and I said it was easier.

I walked Bella to her truck after dinner, and we both waited for Charlie to leave. I told her not to be scared and that we would be watching. Again, she worried for us, and I told her she was "silly." Charlie stubbornly waited for Bella, and then followed her home. He seemed annoyed with her.

Bella and I spent Sunday on the beach while Charlie and Billy watched basketball at the house. The next week was spring break, so Bella could spend her days at La Push without worrying about school. Knowing her anxieties, I wouldn't let go of her when we were alone. I either held her hand or put my arm around her shoulders; she was least resistant to the hand holding. On Tuesday, she had to work, so I followed her there and met her when her shift was over. We talked easily in our time alone together, but I had other responsibilities too. We ran extra patrols at night, and I tried to catch up on sleep. I felt badly for the time I left Bella alone. Tuesday night we retreated into my garage to talk, just the two of us. I talked to her about the night I transformed, what it was like, and how I nearly phased too close to Billy. She asked me how I was, and I told her I was better. It was better having her know. I didn't like the lack of control that filled me with insecurity about whether I could hurt someone I cared about. I told her I didn't want to be a monster.

There was more. I tried to explain that a lot of wolf things just "[came easier for me]" because of my heritage: two of my great-grandfathers were werewolves. She asked me what I liked the best, and I told her the "_speed,_" faster than a vampire. That made an impression on her. Then I asked her to tell me about her vampires, and I asked her about why Edward had killed James. She told me James had tried to kill her—that that was the whole mess down in Phoenix when she had been hurt. I was stunned. She touched the scar on her hand, and I asked about it again. She told me that James had bitten her, and I struggled to understand how that could be—how she could be human if he had bitten her. She explained that Edward had "sucked the venom out." I couldn't control the trembling. He had allowed her to be hurt. He had tasted her blood. She had been in danger of becoming one of them. I didn't know which thought was worse. She told me to calm down. I asked her to distract me with information about her vampires. I could see her hesitation, but she told me that Alice could read the future and Jasper could control people's emotions.

Bella clutched her arms around her chest, and I asked why she did that. She explained that it caused her pain to think about them, and it helped; it made her feel like she could hold together that way. In a way, we both had issues with holding a stable form; I remarked on it and reminded her that "we [had] each other." Wednesday Bella started at Emily's and then went to the beach. I ran patrols, and when I was done, I found her on the beach balled up against the mental and physical pain that thinking about the Cullens caused her. I wished she wouldn't think about them, but I knew we had been talking about them a lot, much more than our usual avoidance of mentioning them altogether. I pulled her into my arms, and apologized for the horrible spring break she was having. I promised to spend the following morning with her. I promised to take her cliff diving. The idea obviously pleased her and her eyes gleamed in that peculiar and hungry way.

But the red-headed vampire seemed determined to ruin my time with Bella. Embry, Jared, and Paul "crossed a fresh trail [during the] early morning," and we all went hunting in the forest, trying to find her or to pick up more trails. Billy would explain to Bella, but I felt badly. I didn't want to keep leaving her alone, and I wanted to honor my promise. And then the scent ripped through my nostrils, and I wanted nothing more than to rip the bitch "bloodsucker" apart. We chased her, but every time one of us got near her, she just managed to slip past us. Then, she headed to the ocean. She dove in when she reached it and started swimming away. Suddenly, I was terrified for Bella. What if she was on the beach? What if the "bloodsucker" found her there? Reading my panic, Sam told me to go and find Bella. I found her truck and realized that she had jumped off the cliff without me, from the top no less. I couldn't see her in the water. I phased back and jumped into the water. Her body was limp, and she was slowly sinking down. She was unconscious. Horror washed through me. No, I thought, not my Bella!

I grabbed her with one arm and towed her to the shore. On the beach, I clapped her back sharply trying to expel the water in her lungs. I called her name and ordered her to breathe. Sam was suddenly there asking how long she had been under. I wasn't sure, not long. We both heard her labored breathing restart, and Sam assured me she would "come around." She came round and called my name; I couldn't believe the relief I felt. She was okay; she was safe—utterly insane, of course, but safe. Sam left to return to the hospital; Harry Clearwater had had a heart attack and a lot of people were there for Harry and for his family. I pulled Bella into my arms and carried her to my house. She asked what had happened, and I told her I had been looking for her. She apologized for being stupid, and I told her to wait for me for the crazy stuff. I also explained that the red-head had escaped through the water and that was the main reason I had come looking for her. She picked up on Sam's mention of the hospital, and I told her Harry Clearwater had had a heart attack.

At the house, I placed her on the couch, and I got her a set of sweats that were ridiculously too big but dry. She didn't want me to leave her alone, even for her to change, and asked me to stay with her. I thought my heart would purr if it could—I wouldn't leave her, I would stay with her, I wouldn't be parted from her. I sat on the floor in front of the couch and leaned my head back. I should have known better; I was asleep before I realized it.

The next moment it seemed like I heard the door open and the lights went on. I jerked awake and jumped up. Billy's face said it all; there were pain and sorrow in his face. Bella read it too. I crossed to my father and took his hand. Sam helped Billy through the door; his face too held the pain and sorrow of my father's. Bella murmured her condolences and then asked about Charlie. Billy explained that Charlie was helping Sue make the arrangements that had to be made. Sam excused himself, and Billy retreated to his room. I sat down near Bella, and she tried to comfort me. My thoughts returned to her, and I asked how she felt. She didn't look particularly good. I went to get her truck. When I got back, I helped her up and put my arm around her, and I kept it around her even as I drove her home.

We were outside of her house. The near drowning experience had made me desperate to get closer to her. I turned toward her and put my other arm around her and hugged her tightly. I tried to tell her how happy I was that she was okay, and I pressed my face against her hair. It smelled pretty much like the ocean, but there was also Bella's scent there, her delicious, seductive scent. I wanted to kiss her, and then I felt her freeze against me. I sensed the rejection and released her. Perhaps it was too soon. I opened the door, and the force of the scent shocked me. _Vampire!_ At Bella's house. I started convulsing. What was the best thing to do? It was hard to think straight. I decided I needed to get Bella away from there. We started to drive away, but Bella demanded that I stop. She insisted that she knew the black car that sat parked across from her house. She said it was one of the Cullens' cars. I didn't want to let her out of my sight. But she insisted on going back. The tremors kept coming. I thought she was insane. She insisted. I couldn't take her back; she could do it herself if she was so determined. I couldn't be near that thing. I had to get back to Sam. I left Bella there in her truck hoping that she wasn't about to be killed by the vampire waiting for her.

As I ran away, I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that she would really want to see one of them again, could trust one of them again. I was disgusted, and I felt betrayed. I ran to distract myself. When I got home, I called her—to find out whether she was still alive enough to answer the phone. She answered, and I that was all I could bear to listen to. I hung up on her.

Sam was as surprised as I was that a Cullen was back—from the scent, we identified her as the tiny, black haired female Cullen. We weren't sure what to make of that news. It meant that we where supposed to keep off Cullen land, so that would make hunting the red-head more complicated. If one was back, were the others coming back too? There were so many questions. In the morning, Sam sent Jared, Embry, and me back to Bella's to get some answers.

We could smell it in there with Bella. I steeled myself against the stench, and leaving Jared and Embry in the Rabbit, I went to Bella's door and rang the bell. Bella answered the door after my second ring. I could tell that the little female Cullen had left. It made it slightly easier to focus on the information that I needed. I confirmed that Bella was alone. My obvious discomfort with one of her vampires irritated her. She goaded me into entering the house alone. I was shaking slightly. We were hostile toward each other, and though I hated that, I didn't have enough control to be otherwise. We, the pack, wanted to know how long the Cullen would here. Bella wasn't sure. We needed Bella to explain to the Cullen about the red-headed vampire and having a Cullen back presented for us protecting Bella. She assented. We also wanted to know if the rest of the Cullens were returning. Her answer was "no." I was relieved at that much. She was still angry, and she bid me to return to Sam in the most sarcastic way she could manage.

I turned to go, but I hesitated at the door. She had her back to me; she thought I had left. She sobbed against the counter. Hurting me caused her pain. I called her name and apologized to her. I promised to be her friend, but I couldn't promise to be around her when she was around her vampires. I pulled her into my arms, but it was difficult to keep her there. The vampire smell overpowered her own scent. I told her she smelled of them. She revealed that apparently, we smelled as repugnant to vampires as they did to us. That was interesting.

I told her I would miss her while the Cullen was there; she protested, and I told her that it was too much of a risk—both she and Sam would be mad if I broke the treaty and killed her Cullen. She tried to pull away from me then, but I held her fast and pulled her face up so that she could look at me. We gazed into each other's eyes, and I cupped her face in my hands and moved to kiss her. The phone beside us suddenly rang. I grabbed it without releasing her. The voice on the other end made me go rigid: vampire. He asked for Charlie and asked where he was when I said Charlie wasn't home. I told him "at the funeral." He gave his name and hung up. Bella was furious that I had answered her phone, but before we could fight it out, I knew the little female Cullen was back. I tried to remain calm, but I had to get out of the house, away from her, so I wouldn't do anything rash. In my confusion, I knocked Bella over. I was at the door and about to go, but something about the little Cullen, the horror of her expression, caught me off-guard, and I hesitated.

She said his name, "Edward," and Bella began to collapse as she took in the little Cullen's expression and words. I caught Bella and moved her to the couch. I was shaking but trying to keep it under control. The little Cullen ordered me to calm down; resentfully, I tried harder. Bella asked her what she had seen. Ugh! It was true; she had extra abilities too. It was complicated, but it all boiled down to the following. The little Cullen had seen Bella jump of the cliff and not come out of the water. She thought that meant Bella had killed herself, and she told some of her family members and had come to Forks. One of them, Rosalie, had called Edward and told him Bella was dead. Edward then called Bella's, talked to me, and thought that Charlie was attending Bella's funeral, and he was going to Italy to die, to ask the vampires there to destroy him. Not all of it made sense to me. Bella's reaction to full the understanding of these events was the hardest to understand of them all.

She was intent on going with Alice to stop Edward; she was willing to go running into some kind of vampire compound with the wild hope of saving Edward, the vampire who had dumped her. I was both dumbfounded and desperate. She couldn't do this. If the little Cullen hadn't been there, there was no way I would have allowed her to. Even the little Cullen acknowledged the risks; she told Bella that she didn't feel comfortable asking her to take the risks. They could be too late, and if they were, they would both die along with Edward. But Bella was gung-ho on going. Bella went to write a note to Charlie and gather some clothes and her passport. I begged her not to go as she wrote. Left alone with the little Cullen, we exchanged hostilities. The little Cullen went to the car, and I begged Bella to stay "for Charlie, for me." It pained me enormously that nothing that I could say would sway her; she was determined to go, and all I could do was stand there helplessly and hope that she didn't die.

When Charlie came home to an empty house and Bella's lame note, he was livid. The note gave no specifics, no contact information—just "with Alice" and "Edward's in trouble." He called me to grill me on where they had gone. I knew more than I let on, but I didn't understand it all myself, and I couldn't tell Charlie about vampires and werewolves.

I reported what I understood to my brothers. None of us knew what to make of it. But it did eliminate the problem the Cullens caused for our hunting the red-head. The red-head returned while Bella was away. We were chasing her, and she didn't seem eager to run away until she crossed the fresh scent of the little Cullen, and then she was in a hurry to leave. It was a very anxious couple of days for me. I had no idea whether Bella was alive or dead or whether she would ever come back to Forks. The idea of Bella being reunited with Edward also tormented me. I didn't believe that she would forgive him after all the pain he had caused her; I couldn't bear the thought of him anywhere near her.

Charlie called Billy to let us know Bella was back, exhausted but apparently all right. Charlie seemed to be most upset by the fact that Edward had brought her home, carried her into their home from his car, and that Bella seemed content to be reunited with him. Billy admitted this to me cautiously. I didn't like how it sounded either and was quaking with rage by the time he spit it all out. It couldn't be. She wouldn't do that to me. But as the days slid past, it became obvious Bella had forgiven Edward, and they were back together. Charlie groused about having to put up with Edward to Billy, so I knew.

Bella called all the time, but I wouldn't take her calls. She could explain herself in person or not at all. He must have been keeping her from seeing me, and I couldn't believe she was actually listening to him. What was the hold he had over her? How could she forgive him? I felt ill, like my guts had been wrenched out and turned inside out. When I didn't eat, I became down right surly. Running was the only thing that seemed to release the anger and hatred I felt. The weeks slid by. The horrible aching emptiness I felt was as painful as ever. I missed Bella so, but I wouldn't be near her and her "bloodsucker." I got desperate. There had to be a way to keep them apart.

It occurred to me that if she got in trouble, Charlie would ground her, and she wouldn't be able to see Edward. What would get her in enough trouble for that? I knew the answer was her motorcycle. Charlie would go berserk if he knew. But it would be a betrayal of her trust. She had made me promise not to tell even Billy for fear of Charlie finding out. But she had betrayed me. She had gone back to her "bloodsucker" without even, it appeared, a parting thought to me. Narking on Bella would have the added advantage of putting me in the good books with Charlie. She would be furious with me, but I could handle that if it worked, if it kept her from him.

I waited until a Saturday when she would be working, and I got on her bike and rode it to her house. I rang the bell, and Charlie looked pleasantly surprised to see me on his doorstep. He asked me in, but I said that since Bella didn't appear to be talking to me anymore, I thought I should return her bike, and I handed the keys to Charlie. His eyes flashed past me to the red bike in the driveway, and for a moment I thought he was going to have a stroke. He sucked in his breath and his eyes just about bugged out of their sockets. He turned a whole series of brilliant reds, and then managed to choke out, "Her bike!"

"Yeah," I lied causally. "I told her it wasn't a good idea, but you know how she can be stubborn," and I left it like that. I told him good-bye and started walking toward home. Mission accomplished.

I walked past the sight of the house and headed just into the forest to wait for them. Sam wanted to remind the "bloodsuckers" of a key issue in the treaty, and I had volunteered because at least I would get to see Bella. I saw them approach Bella's house in his car, and I knew he knew I was there when he continued past the house and parked near where I was—whether he could smell me or hear me I didn't know. I heard him explain to her that I was still there. She wanted to confront me; she was furious. He told her that I wanted to speak to him—so I knew he could hear my thoughts. She was instantly worried about a fight, but he soothed her. Ugh! He knew I was speaking for the pack.

I waited for them, barely able to contain the loathing and anger I felt. He stopped when he saw me and positioned her behind his body protectively. His sickly sweet smell polluted the forest. He was trying to protect her from me—it was ridiculous. I greeted her curtly, and she asked me why. I said it was "for the best," but I wouldn't explain any more. Edward answered her questions when I wouldn't. He told her I was trying to get her grounded so that she couldn't spend time with him. She explained she already was grounded and that was why she hadn't been over to see me. I felt relief—it wasn't that I wasn't important to her any more. He continued telling her my thoughts; he explained that I thought he wouldn't let her visit not Charlie. Bella wasn't joking about his abilities; they were seriously annoying. I snapped at him that he probably knew the message I was sent to deliver since he could pick everything else out of my head.

He answered yes, but he surprised me by thanking me. I couldn't imagine what he was talking about, and Bella seemed just as confused as I was. He explained that I and the pack had kept Bella safe when he had not. I told him I didn't do it for him, but it didn't seem to matter to him. He said he would "owe" me. I called him on it; in my mind I thought, "The thing I want is for you to leave again." He said he would stay as long as Bella wanted him to stay. Bella suddenly seemed to guess at the full conversation, and she looked up into his face and said, "Never." I struggled not to vomit on the spot. The way she looked at him—adoringly, lovingly—after all he had done and with her knowing what he was, I couldn't comprehend it on any level. It was sickening, demented. She had to be stopped for her own good. She clearly wasn't capable of rational judgment where he was concerned.

Bella turned to look at me and wanted to know what else I wanted. I mentioned the treaty, and Edward cut me off by and said that they remembered everything. Bella asked what about the treaty, and I explained it to her. The treaty was more specific than prohibiting the Cullens from killing a human, if one of them bit a human, the treaty was void. Bella's angry response stunned me. "That's none of your business," she said. I started shaking immediately. I couldn't believe it. He would take the girl I loved and turn her into a vampire, and she would want THAT! I couldn't even see for the rage and fury that I felt. I heard her move toward me, but he pulled her back behind him, warning her that I wasn't in control.

I knew it was her desire to hold me, and I so desperately wanted to hold her. I calmed down and spat at him that "I would never hurt her." He hissed at me, and I thought I actually might get to fight him, and then Charlie's bellowing broke the tension around us. He was demanding that Bella get into the house. Bella was upset about facing Charlie, and I apologized for the bike. Edward asked if we had seen Victoria again, and I explained we had while Bella was away, but she bolted when she picked up his sister's scent. Charlie started screaming again, and Edward tried to usher Bella to the house. She hesitated; she stepped toward me again, and again he pulled her back. I told him to let her go, to let her come to me, and I moved toward her. But he pulled her behind him and turned to face me, and then Charlie was screaming again, and Edward succeeded in pulling her toward the house, his eyes never leaving me and his arm never leaving her. I hated him for keeping her from me. I hated him for taking her away from me. I hated him because I couldn't separate them—no matter how badly I tried. I wanted to kill him so badly. Filthy leech!

Seeing Bella and Edward together was more than I could bear. I ran through the forest trying to distract myself from my pain and misery. It was all so incomprehensible to me. The Cullens were back, and Bella had seemingly forgiven Edward for everything. The way she had looked into his eyes and said "never" replayed in my mind like a scene from a horror movie that gave you nightmares but that you couldn't seem to forget. I would have given everything I had for her to look at me like that, to want me like that. I couldn't understand. And worse than the way she looked at him was that she was willing to become a "bloodsucker" herself, to join him. The treaty would forbid it; it would mean war. That was something to look forward to at least. I couldn't picture Bella as a vampire. She was my helpless, irresponsible Bella, my porcelain doll—absolutely perfect the way she was. What would we do? What would Sam say? I had no idea.

Sam suggested that if becoming a vampire was Bella's choice, it might alter the way we would look at it, but the majority was just interested in the fight, the war that her choice would mandate, so we would wait. Until they broke the treaty, there was little to do or decide. That she could make such a choice was still so unfathomable to me. I still refused to answer Bella's phone calls, and they began to be less frequent. Her new line of attack was to send notes through Charlie. I mostly ignored them, but I finally wrote one back. I started half a dozen angry sentences but crossed them all off, including the one telling her her notes were painful to me. The only positive thing I could say was, "I miss you, too. A lot. Doesn't change anything. Sorry."

The miserable routine of my life without Bella continued. Graduation approached steadily. I knew that Bella was going to visit her mother over the weekend because Charlie had mentioned it to Billy, but I didn't think anything of it. But we all considered what the significance of Bella's three day trip to Florida might mean. Would he change her there? Would the war begin? Would we really go to war with the Cullens when Bella had chosen to become of vampire of her own free will?

That Saturday night we caught the scent of the red-head, and we chased her. To our surprise the Cullens were all in place on their side of the border hunting her too. The little dark haired female must have seen her coming, I guessed. The red-head seemed to have a knack for escape because she stayed right on the boundary line letting neither the Cullens nor us gain an advantage over her. At one point, the big male Cullen crossed the line, and Paul went wild. The male Cullen's mate, the disconcertingly beautiful blond, got involved, and then suddenly the leader and the younger blond male were there; the younger one messing with us and calming us all down. By the time we had it under control, the red-head had fled to the ocean. The younger males, the big one and the blonde one, wanted to cross our land and follow her, but we wouldn't let them.

After the incident, Sam wanted us to re-establish that the treaty was in effect—that the Cullens were okay with what had happened and we also needed to ascertain Bella's status after her trip. I volunteered again. I didn't know when Bella would be back, so I started calling Charlie's house ridiculously early. I badgered him all day. I called again crazy with worry, and she answered—her voice, the same, my Bella's human voice. One question answered. I couldn't hide my annoyance that she hadn't called me first, and I could hear the irritation in response in her voice. I asked if she would be at school the next day; she said "yes," and then I let her go. I knew she wouldn't understand, but I would be able to deliver my message to the Cullens at Bella's school because I was sure given the red-head's persistence, he would be with her, watching her or having her watched.

I was waiting for them to arrive at their school. As they arrived, I heard him try to convince her to stay in the car. As soon as she saw me, she refused, and I struggled to resist the smile that was my natural response. Edward read my mind, of course. Filthy "bloodsucker"! and knew that I was there to represent the pack again. He tried to explain that to her. He positioned her again behind his body—like he needed to protect her from me. Edward was uncomfortable with this confrontation here in front of their classmates. It sickened me that he suggested I just call Bella to reach him. He tried to end the conversation before it began. He told me he knew the message and said they were "warned" meaning about crossing the boundary lines. Bella didn't understand and asked questions. I answered her. It became clear that she not only didn't know anything about what had happened Saturday night between Paul and his brother, but she didn't know that the red-head had returned. He hadn't told her anything!

Edward seemed to be determined to keep Bella from figuring this out, but I spat out at him that "it [was] her life" and she had "a right to know." Edward disagreed; protecting her was more important to him. We argued back and forth, and then it occurred to me that if he could read my thoughts I could show him some images that should sicken him. So I thought very carefully and purposefully of the image Sam had of the night he found Bella in the woods, the image I had of Bella when she first came to see me, and the images I had of her clutching herself-desperate to hold herself together after he had ripped her apart. The look on his face was sheer torture. Torture that I recognized from my time away from Bella. I gloated in his pain.

Bella noticed Edward's pain and told me to stop. He tried to dismiss his pain, but Bella and I could both see that it tormented him—but with completely opposite reactions to that torment. Edward again tired to usher Bella away from me—to English class and away from the principal who was on his way. But I was desperate. I called him "overprotective" and told her if she wanted "a life again," she could find it with me at La Push.

I didn't want to say any of this in front of him, but I wasn't sure I would get any other opportunity, so I sucked in my pride and blurted it out. I told her how much I missed her every day. I told her it was hard to survive without her. She started to comfort me as I knew she would. I laid it on thicker—I told her I would try to survive. I sensed her flex her muscles to reach out to me, and I saw how he held her back. Again rage flooded my mind, and I struggled to refrain from convulsing.

The principal arrived, and though Bella tried to comfort me, Edward deftly moved her behind his body again to shield her from me. The principal started threatening the lingering students, and Edward was only too keen to get Bella way from me. When the principal questioned me, I was belligerent and cocky, if he made good on his threat with the police, Charlie would give me some slack. I left as disrespectfully as I could manage.

It seemed hopeless. How would Bella ever be able to see me between her grounded status and Edward's obvious distrust and repulsion of me as a werewolf? The following Saturday, it dumbfounded me when I heard the noise that could only be Bella's truck arriving outside our house. I was in the doorway to make sure it was true before she was out of the truck. She explained that she had made "a snap decision" to see me and had been able to get to me before the psychic could stop her. I hugged her tightly to me, and again I was so happy that I didn't realize I was cutting off her breathing. She had to beg me to stop, so she could breathe normally. It was so good to see her and have her here. I was overwhelmed by the depth of my emotion.

We walked toward the beach. After our initial exchange of pleasantries, we were left with what had happened since she ran off with the little Cullen and what had happened after that. I knew the anger showed on my face, but I could help it. I asked her if she had forgiven him, and she answered, "There was nothing to forgive." She was out of her mind. I brought up the way she looked when Sam found her. I continued, and then she told me the reason he left. She said that he left because he didn't think it was safe for her to be around vampires. What? That caught me by surprise. I never imagined that the "bloodsucker" and I would agree on anything when it came to Bella. But he didn't stay away, I countered, and Bella answered back that "[she] went and got_ him_." I struggled with how to respond to that but decided to change the subject, so I asked for the story of what happened when she went to get him.

She hesitated, and I goaded her. Couldn't she tell me? She answered that it was a long story. I told her I didn't mind, and we went to sit on our piece of driftwood. She asked if I could behave, if I could refrain from making disparaging comments about her friends. I promised; I "pretended to lock [my] lips and [throw away the key]." She explained that when Edward thought she was dead, he had planned on going to Italy to ask the Volturi to kill him. Alice saw Edward's decision to go to the Volturi, so they had gone to Italy so he could see that Bella was alive. Then Alice, Bella, and Edward were taken to the Volturi to explain themselves, and Edward convinced the Volturi that they presented no threat to them, and they were allowed to leave. I was good and only interrupted once when I realized that the little Cullen couldn't see us (werewolves). Once Bella was done, she asked to know what happened on Saturday night, so I told her. She interrupted me only to give me the names of the different Cullen family members. I didn't care, but she was persistent in telling me their names anyway. I asked her what Edward had told her. Her reply was the same story without all the specifics. We could look forward to the red-head coming back, I told her. The knowledge didn't seem to comfort her.

It made me sad to think about how arbitrary events had changed our lives. If Bella had only waited to cliff dive with me, Alice wouldn't have seen her jump at all, and they wouldn't have come back, and it would be Bella and me just like it had been for most of this year. She asked what I was thinking, and I told her. She said that Edward would have returned. I questioned that, but she was convinced—she said neither of them did well apart. I didn't know about that. I only knew that their being together stopped me being with her, and I was still full of regret that Bella hadn't waited for me.

Instead of fighting with her I told her that Sam was very disappointed in her forgiveness of her vampires, and as I started Sam's story, I watched an eagle streak from the sky to catch a fish and fly off with it. This was the way of nature, I thought bitterly. The predator stalks the prey, and in the right trap, the prey is snared and devoured. How could Bella not see Edward as the predator? Did his looks or his money obscure the fact that he was a killer? I suggested these things and asked her about what could motivate her. My questions infuriated her. She got up and tried to walk away, but I wouldn't let her. I grabbed her wrist and forced her to face me. I told her I just didn't understand, and I couldn't.

She said she loved him because he was "the most loving and unselfish and brilliant and _decent_ person [she'd] ever met." She was impossible; she was completely blind to the way he manipulated her, blind to the power of the tools he used to attract her, blind to the lies he told to hold her. She asked what an appropriate reason would be to love someone, and my answer was finding someone in one's "own species." I meant myself, of course, but she countered by mentioning Mike Newton. She could hit below the belt! I hated to think of her with that wimpy guy; it was almost as vile as thinking of her and her vampire. She told me I could be nicer about the Cullens, but they were unnatural. She suggested that I was also unnatural, but I protested that. I was born the way I was—with this ability; it was part of the tribe identity, and even if it was weird, it didn't stop me from being human.

I was suddenly vulnerable; the aches of missing her so badly these weeks and of wanting her to want me the way I wanted her were too much. When I hesitated and looked away from her, she saw my pain and took my hand. She started to comfort me, and I let her. Hand-in-hand I led her back to the driftwood bench. We were quiet for a while, and then she started asking about my friends. I started to give her an up-date. I guessed that Edward would be mad at Bella for her trip to see me, and I asked her about it. He would worry about her safety, she explained. When I suggested she stay here permanently, she said that that would probably make him coming looking for her. The ideas of the "bloodsucker" breaking the treaty and the fight that would erupt were very appealing. She was very annoyed when I expressed my eagerness for those things. She told me that the idea of Edward and me trying to kill each other made her insane, and she asked me to stop. She thought he was better at curbing his hostilities toward me, but I knew he was just better at lying than I was.

Our conversation brought us back to the story I had started about Sam. I explained that Sam and Leah had originally been together. They loved each other. When Sam transformed, he disappeared, and no one knew where he was. Sam didn't understand what was going on at first. When he did, he couldn't tell Leah, but they were trying to make it work. Then, Sam saw Emily, and everything changed; he imprinted on Emily, and I explained what that meant. He hurt Leah, but there was nothing he could do about it, so he hates the Cullens for making him hurt Leah, for making him what we are. During the story, to emphasize the way our temperatures mark us as different from normal people, I cupped one hand around Bella's face and pulled it toward my own. I could see her discomfort, but I didn't care. She freed her face by taking my hand in her own, and the compromise was we were holding hands. At least, I was touching her. She tried to explain that the Cullens didn't know their presence would make the members of our tribe become wolves again. I told her it didn't really matter whether they knew or not.

She told me to "grow up," and I told her I couldn't. It was one of the wolfy things; when we transform, we grow to full maturity and stay that way until we can control ourselves long enough to stop phasing. Her reaction surprised me; she had a complete hissy fit. I didn't understand it. It didn't matter that I was technically sixteen; I didn't look sixteen. She asked me if I had imprinted. How she could ask, with me so obsessed with her, I didn't understand, but I explained that only Sam and Jared had imprinted, and I told her Jared's story. I shared a detail about Kim, Jared's girl, and Bella thought Jared was insensitive for sharing that with us. I explained that we didn't have a choice; we could read each other's thoughts as wolves, so we all knew each other's story. It was the part I hated most, and she commiserated with me.

It occurred to me that it must be like that with her and her vampire—that he would be in her head all the time, and I asked Bella about that. She explained that Edward couldn't read her thoughts; she was his exception, and "they [didn't] know _why_." When she suggested that it meant there was something wrong with how her mind worked, I agreed. Anyone who would willingly "date" a vampire had some serious mental issues. We sat quietly for a while. My mind drifted to the movie Bella and I had gone to with Mike Newton and the way it seemed "easier" to be with her then, when I was a human boy and she was a human girl and there were no vampires in Forks. It was good remembering that, and when she asked me what I was thinking, I told her. But the idea of remembering and good memories made her think of the confrontation between Edward and me at school earlier.

She demanded to know what I had remembered. I laughed as I thought back on it. That was a great memory—the way the "bloodsucker's" face had twisted in pain. I had really enjoyed that. I told her I had remembered the zombie images of her after he left, of how she looked when Sam found her, of how she looked the first day in my garage, and of how she used to need to hold herself together. She was angry at me and hit my shoulder. She tried to get me to swear not to do it again. I wouldn't, but then she got up to leave, and I grabbed her hand and wouldn't let her leave me. To get her to stop struggling against me, I agreed not to do it again.

I suggested that we went back to the house, but she said she needed to meet her friend, Angela. It didn't seem possible that we had spent hours together. I didn't want her to go. Worse, I didn't know when I would see her again; she tried to comfort me by saying she would come back "next time [he was] away." When I called him a "parasite," she threatened to not "come back at all," and she tried to pull her hand away from mine, but I wouldn't let her. Then she told me she was done with all the labeling: human, vampire, werewolf. She insisted that she was a neutral country, and there was only Bella, Edward, and Jacob. I thought she was asking the impossible, but I consented to try. We had missed each other, and it was good to know that she had missed me, but I missed her in ways she couldn't imagine and didn't want to imagine. My miracle had happened before: Edward had left Bella and I had found the opportunity to spend time together with her and we had grown close. Could I be lucky enough for a second miracle? I desperately hoped so. I walked her to the truck and watched her leave with feelings of longing and bitterness nagging at my insides.

Bella called me to tell me that Edward was going "away" with some of his family for a long weekend and suggested that we could hang out on Saturday. I was ecstatic. It would be great to spend a whole day with Bella again. Then she called me again on Thursday night to cancel. I felt crushing disappointment; I had been looking forward to my day with her too much. I asked if "he lock[ed] her in a coffin" when he was away. He was such a control freak that he wouldn't let her make her own choices. I hated him for depriving me of her. When I asked why she was canceling, she said that Edward would be back by then; he had gone away early. When I realized he was already gone, I asked her to come over then. She told me she was "being held prisoner," and I felt my blood boil and the quivering begin in my body. I wanted to rip his throat out. Filthy "bloodsucker!" I suggested that the pack could come and free her. She blew off the offer and tried to explain that they were only trying to keep her safe. Then she said goodnight.

I was so angry and disappointed that I went into the forest to run and distract myself. As I ran, I tried to think of someway to get Bella away from them that wouldn't violate the treaty. How had Bella gotten away before? She told me that she had made "a snap decision" and moved quickly to get to the other side of the border. Alice couldn't see Bella's decision to see me until she made it. Alice couldn't see me at all, and Alice couldn't see Bella when Bella was with me. As I thought about these different facts, it occurred to me that I could spring Bella from school. Alice wouldn't see me or my decisions. If I showed up between their classes and if Bella saw me, she could make "a snap decision" to leave with me, and Alice couldn't react in time to stop it. I could have my day with Bella after all. I went to bed that night cautiously optimistic.

I was filled with excitement the next morning. Time seemed to drag on forever, but finally it was time. I waited until it was the right time, just as first period was letting out. I saw Bella and Mike Newton walking from one set of buildings to another. I kicked the bike to life and headed toward them. Shock crossed Bella's face as she recognized the bike and me. I brought the bike to a noisy stop in front of her and yelled for Bella to hurry. She understood and said something quickly to Mike and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. God, I hated that kid! I felt Bella winding her arms around me with a surge of pleasure, and we were off. When we were safely in La Push, I couldn't resist laughing my head off. I congratulated myself on the "prison break." Bella was pleased too; she was up for anything.

We went to the beach and walked. At first we goaded each other—me mentioning how much more pleased Charlie would be if she picked me. But then she asked about what was happening with the pack. The big news was that Quil had imprinted on Claire, one of Emily's nieces, a child of two years of age. Bella was clearly repulsed, but I tried to explain that it wasn't like that. Because Quil didn't age, like the rest of us, he could just wait for her to catch up to him—but he would always know she was the one for him. She asked about Claire's choice in the relationship, and I tried to explain that with the devotion that Quil would put in, she would never choose anyone else. Claire's lack of agency in this situation seemed to bother her, but she just didn't understand. Quil would become everything Claire ever wanted just like I was willing to become everything that Bella ever wanted.

She asked me "when" it would happen for me. I told her my hope—that it would never happen—because I never wanted to be with anyone but her. She suggested I hadn't "seen much of the world." And I told her I didn't want to see anything else. She looked away and suggested that she should leave. But I wouldn't have it. If she had the whole day off, I would be good and not make her uncomfortable. She protested, but I assured her that "I [knew] what [I was] doing." We rode our bikes and ended up in my garage. I reminded her about Valentine's Day, and we joked about the "lifetime of servitude" I had proposed for her. When she talked about it, the sexual images from my dreams flashed through my mind and were nearly overpowering. I wanted her in all those ways, and it took every ounce of control I had not to leap on her and have my way with her then and there on the floor of my garage.

I refocused on Bella, and I touched her hand. I was so sad that things had changed in more ways than I could tell her. I tried to apologize about ratting her out about the bike. She forgave me as I knew she would. She loved me too much to hold anything against me, especially if I apologized for it later. I hesitated there. There was a question that I needed to know the answer to, that the pack needed the answer to, that I was not sure I was strong enough to ask. The words came out stilted and awkward, I asked her if she really meant what she had said in the forest—that "being bitten" "was none of my business" – that she was willing to be bitten. She said "yes." I controlled most of the convulsions, but I knew that I was visibly shaking.

What I said next seemed to take her by surprise. I told her that it would violate the treaty. She suggested that they would leave—as if she thought that would matter. And I told her it wouldn't matter, we would come after them; the war would start. She pleaded with me, but I wouldn't listen. She suggested that my position meant that this was the end of our relationship, and I didn't understand. I told her we had "years," and she qualified by saying that we had "weeks." I couldn't stop the shaking then. My whole frame vibrated. I thought I would explode. I was "growling" and nearly thrashing. I realized that I could kill Bella with the surge of emotions that I felt—if it drove me to phase next to her. I made myself calm down.

I was furious. I spat it out, "He's going to change you into a filthy bloodsucker in a few _weeks_!" She flinched away from me but said "yes." I told her I would rather see her dead. I sat there stunned as the idea of losing Bella so completely began to register with me. She was so enraged that she left me there and went home. And I was too bereft at that moment to apologize or go after her or do anything but wallow in my grief.

Of course, I realized what an ass I had been right after she left. I called Charlie and tried to explain that I had said something stupid and that I wanted, I needed, to make it up to her. She just had to call me back. She was still at her "sleep over," so I couldn't talk to her, but Charlie promised to see what he could do to make sure Bella called me back, and I knew he meant it.

She didn't call the next day, and I suffered from her absence, but she did call the morning of the following day. I apologized profusely, and she forgave me. I knew she would; she would forgive me anything, and I wondered how far I was willing to test that. I asked her to come see me, so I could make up for being stupid. She hesitated. Something was going on that she wasn't telling me. Then she surprised the hell out of me by suggesting that I talk to Edward on the phone. I hesitated. I couldn't imagine what the "bloodsucker" would have to say that I would care to hear, but I agreed.

Just the sound of his voice made my skin prickle and sent the blood coursing through my veins, but I struggled to pay attention to his words. Edward said that "someone" had been at Bella's house, and I knew he meant another vampire and not one of the Cullens. I was riveted to every word then. He asked if we had picked up anything. I told him no. He explained that until this threat was taken care of, he would be keeping Bella close. I understood the need for her protection, but I argued that we could protect her just as well, and I suggested that perhaps the boundary between our lands could be adjusted to make protecting Bella easier. I wasn't sure Sam would agree to that, but I could ask. I knew he would follow the trail; I wanted to follow it too, so I asked what he would do with her when he went. He intended on leaving her with his family, but I suggested that I could watch her while he went, and then I could follow it after he was done for the pack. He agreed and put Bella back on the phone.

She asked me what was going on, and I told her we were working on an agreement, a coordination of sorts, and I told her to persuade him that she was safe at La Push. I suggested it was a good place for Charlie as well, and she asked me to get Billy to invite Charlie over; I told her I would. I told her I would be hanging around her place just in case and would see her soon. She didn't like the idea of me tracking the rogue leech, but I laughed at her and hung up. I ran through the forest. It felt weird to be coordinating with Bella's vampire. I hated him. Instinctively I was repulsed by every aspect of their beings from their voices to their scents, but the threat to Bella seemed to soften that—to make it less relevant than her safety. I would tolerate him for her, to help her.

I waited for Edward to leave and then went into see Bella. I was wearing a pair of shorts because I wasn't sure if I would need to phase or not and carrying shorts instead of a full outfit was easier when in wolf form. I watched Bella look me over, with flush of satisfaction, and then she asked me why I was wearing so little. I explained about the awkwardness of carrying clothes in wolf form and pointed out the cord on my ankle that I used to secure my shorts. I couldn't resist teasing her and asked her if "my being half-naked bother[ed her]." She turned to her sink full of dishes to hide her blush. I asked where the scent of her intruder was strongest, and Bella told me her bedroom. I "didn't like that." I went to her room, and the stench was horrid. Edward's scent was pervasive, but the intruder's scent was also interesting. He, male, hadn't just been in the room; he had moved around it like he was looking for something. That troubled me, but I wasn't sure what to make of it. The important thing was that I had the scent and could give it to my pack brothers and sister. The pack had expanded from six to ten and now included Leah and Seth Clearwater as well as Collin and Brady.

I returned to Bella. She was either absorbed in her own thoughts or didn't hear me because I startled her. I offered to help her with the dishes she was washing, so she gave me a plate to dry. I told her her room stunk; she suggested "air freshener," and I laughed. We were quiet for a while, and then my curiosity was too much for me, and I started asking her some of the questions I longed and yet feared to hear the answers to. I asked her about having a vampire for a boyfriend. It didn't seem to bother her; I still couldn't get used to that idea of it not seeming strange to her. I asked if they kissed, and she said "yes." The idea of Bella being in such close contact with his venomous teeth made me cringe. I called them fangs, and she hit me. She handed me a knife, and I started to dry it. Then I asked her when? I couldn't say it—when he would bite her so that she would transform into a vampire herself. She knew what I meant and told me, graduation. That was sooner than I had anticipated, and I clenched my hand down on the knife, and then dropped when I realized I had cut myself.

Bella was so upset that I had cut myself and started babbling about taking me to the emergency room. She gave me the dish towel for my hand. I didn't need to go, of course. My wolfy body was already sealing the cut. She knew this was a characteristic of werewolves; she just hadn't witnessed it in action. I removed the dish towel from my hand to show her the cut was healing. She was amazed, and I looked into her beautiful chocolate brown eyes. I couldn't imagine them taken away from me forever. I reminded her that she knew this about werewolf healing, and she said seeing it first hand was something else entirely. Then she got out bleach and dowsed everything that had touched blood with it. The bleach seemed over-kill; I didn't understand. She explained that it was hard for her vampire to be around the scent of blood.

I didn't want to think about him, so I asked her what it was like for her to have a werewolf best friend. She laughed, but she didn't seem to find it weird; it was nice she said, especially when the werewolf was on good behavior. I smiled at her, and then pulled her into a hug. I would have liked to have held her tightly for much longer than she would have allowed, but the stench in her hair was revolting; she smelled like him, and I let her go. I could hear him outside, waiting for me to leave. I told her good-bye, but before I left, I told her that we were having a bonfire that night and she would be safe with us there; the whole pack would be there. She hesitated. I threw out terms like "warden" and "controlling, abusive teenage relationships" and my parting jibe was for her to "ask _permission_." I didn't think he would let her, but I so wanted her to be there—to hear the stories and to be with us. I ran through the forest, with half a dozen strange strands of thought running through my mind about the intruder, about Bella, about graduation, about the pack, and about the treaty.

It took me by surprise when Bella called to say she could come. I whooped and laughed. Edward was insisting on driving her to the border and leaving Bella with a cell phone, but I could deal with those things; we would meet at six. The rest of the day seemed to drag by. I couldn't wait to be with Bella again. Finally, it was time or close enough, and I drove to the border to wait. I was too impatient to wait in the car, so I stood leaning against it. Edward stopped on his side of the border, and they both got out of the car. He went to the trunk of the car and to my surprise pulled out Bella's bike and a few other things—one looked like a motorcycle helmet. I watched him, irritated that he was finding a way to interject himself into an activity that Bella and I did together. A helmet—what was the other thing—a jacket? Actually, the idea of Bella in a black, leather, biker jacket was very appealing. Damn him! Bella took the things and waited. Then Edward wrapped his arms around her and kissed her fiercely. Watching it was unbearable. I growled softly and clenched and unclenched my fists. The idea of sinking my werewolf teeth into his neck was so horribly alluring it was hard not to phase on the spot. He released her and told her good-bye. Ugh! It was a jacket.

But then Bella was walking her bike toward me. As soon as she crossed the line, I helped her with the bike and asked her about it. She said it belonged in La Push in my garage. Edward was watching us, and I couldn't resist paying him back in kind. He had taunted me; I would taunt him back, and I pulled Bella into a tight hug and had the satisfaction of hearing the Volvo accelerate hard. Bella was annoyed. She knew I had done it on purpose just to annoy him, and she knew Edward was upset. I blew it off. He had the advantages; I knew that, but I was going to just keep being "annoyingly persistent" and see where that got me. If there was any way to get Bella, I would try it.

Bella was nervous. She hadn't been down to La Push except to see me since the Cullens returned, but I knew it would be okay. My pack brothers had all seen enough of my thoughts to know how much Bella was part of my life. Her vampire attachment was more a curiosity to them. Embry and Paul teased her a little, but that was all. We ate for a while and talked in small groups. The pack was there and some of the tribal elders. The stories would come soon. It was interesting to share this with Bella, and I watched as she took everything in. Bella suggested it was time for her to go, and I told her she had to hear the stories first. I moved closer to her and put my arm around her and told her that the elders would tell our legends very soon. Billy began and told the story of the spirit warriors and how they became "wolves who turned into men." Old Quil then told the story of the third wife. Old Quil's story included the ancient threat but also included the threats the Cullens brought when they came here both in the past and now and their impact on the tribe.

Bella enjoyed the stories, but she was tired by the time everything was over. She was asleep against her rock by the time I got back from helping pack things away. I carried her to the car. Then I found her phone and called Edward and then Charlie to explain we were on the way home. I parked on our side of the border and woke Bella. She started to panic when she realized that she had fallen asleep, but I explained that I had taken care of everything for her. I wanted Edward to be okay with this, so that it might happen again. I gave her back the phone. Before she got out of the car, she told me she really enjoyed herself, and I knew that she had. I told her I was glad and that it was "nice" "for me [to have her] there." Edward was pacing on his side of the border, and I commented on his lack of patience. I said good-bye and told her to visit again. I told her to sleep well and that I would be watching her house during the night. I drove home slowly, thinking about Bella Swan.

Wednesday afternoon, Bella surprised me by calling. I had been sleeping at the time, the extra patrols taking their toll on my normal sleeping habits and my mood. She asked if she could come over after her exams the following day. I was elated. She could come as soon as she wanted; the reservation school was finished for the summer, so I had no plans. After the phone call, I was too hyped up to go back to sleep. I wanted Bella. I loved her, and I wanted some way to make her realize that she loved me too. She could belong to me. If she chose me, what would he do? I didn't care, so long as I could have her.

That night, in the brief time that I wasn't running patrols, my dreams about Bella were conflicted—as much as I wanted Bella to choose me, for it to be her choice to pick me over Edward, I was willing to force her to be mine. So my dreams flitted between images of Bella telling Edward she didn't love him any more and running into my arms, calling my name, and declaring her love for me to images of me forcing Bella to kiss me, forcing her to have sex with me. It wasn't rape in the dreams and she wasn't my sex slave either. Though she resisted at first, she realized that she liked it—she kissed me back and when we were having sex, she suddenly began responding to me, moaning in my ear and coming with me. I woke up covered in sweat with my dick rock hard and throbbing. I masturbated and came quickly. I knew what I would do. I would tell her I loved her and kiss her. We could walk on the beach, and I could try to think of some achingly romantic way to raise the subject.

In the morning, I was nearly giddy with excitement and exhaustion. I was sure Bella would respond to me. She just didn't understand what she wanted. As I waited for them at the border, my lack of sleep hit me hard. Bella got in my car. She eyed me suspiciously, and I told her I was just tired and explained about Sam and the extra patrols. Billy was at the Clearwater's helping Sue, and when Bella asked about him, I explained. We sat on the couch, and I turned on the TV to something mindless. She tried to tell me to stop doing extra runs around her place and get more sleep. I declined—reminding her we had swapped "eternal servitude" and I was her "slave for live." My dreams flashed before me. She got angry and said she didn't want a "slave for life," she wanted her "friend." I brought up her upcoming graduation and then wished I hadn't. "No _special_ plans," she answered, and then she amended that. She said that they, Alice, Edward, and she, were having a graduation party at the Cullens. I joked that I hadn't been invited and that I has "hurt" by the oversight. She invited me and seemed to honestly want me to come. I couldn't imagine actually going—the stench alone seemed impossible in a house of seven vampires—but the proximity to them was harder to imagine. I couldn't imagine remaining in enough control to last a minute.

I let my eyes close for a minute. I was so tired they felt sore, irritated. I was so exhausted that I was asleep before I realized it. Then, in what felt like a moment later, I felt my arm being moved, and I jerked myself up. I didn't realize what was going on at first. Bella was there apologizing for waking me. I was asleep! Crap! All my planning. I was going to have to improvise. I asked her how long I had been asleep. She was keeping track of time in cooking shows—so she thought a few of those—three to four? Several hours. I was "an idiot." She talked about leaving, and I grew frantic. I had to tell her. I grabbed her hand and pulled her up and out of the house into the cooler air.

I was nervous. This wasn't how I wanted to lead up to this. I blushed and tried to collect my thoughts. I gave my pre-amble, and she looked uncomfortable. She pulled her hand away from mine. I looked into her beautiful eyes and said my peace as clearly and carefully as I could: "I'm in love with you, Bella…. Bella, I love you. And I want you to pick me instead of him. I know you don't feel that way, but I need the truth out there so that you know your options. I wouldn't want a miscommunication to stand in our way." She couldn't say anything at first, and then she blurted out her rejection and turned to leave. I grabbed her and turned her around. I made her face me. I asked her if she wanted me out of her life. She didn't want that. I told her I would "stick around" because she wanted me in her life. I slid my fingers along her face, and she batted them away. I knew I was making her uncomfortable. I told her I wouldn't be good—I would always push for what I wanted. She found that "mean," but I called her on it—her being mean for keeping me in her life. She spiraled into guilt.

She was so vulnerable and easy to manipulate. I told her I wouldn't give up—I told her there was "something irresistible about a lost cause." And really what were my chances against Edward? Slim, at best. But the thoughts, of how much the competition would irritate him and would make him wonder what was best for her, were too good to pass up. She tried to tell me that she loved him—but I told her that she loved me too. "[He wasn't her whole life—not after he left—and he had to deal with me]." I put my hand to her face and forced her to look at me. She tried to pull away, but I wouldn't let her. I tightened my hold on her face, and I bent down to kiss her. She protested, but I ignored her.

I "crushed" my lips to hers. I was desperate for her to see that she enjoyed kissing me more than kissing him. My attack verged on violence. I wouldn't let her protest or pull away or stop me. In my mind, I imaged how much more I wanted to be doing. The idea of ripping her clothes off to get to her naked body had almost irresistible appeal. Bella's hands touched my face, and I forced her lips apart. She suddenly became passive in my arms, and I was disappointed. I "pulled back" and kissed her gently on the lips several times. Then I let go of her. I didn't know how to read her reaction. I was pleased. It wasn't as good as I imagined it, but it was pretty good. I closed my eyes to savor the memory. And then she patted my mouth and started jumping up and down.

I realized with intense amusement that she had punched me in the face and had hurt her hand as a result. She was furious. I told her I would take her home, and I tried to put my arm around her, but she wouldn't stand for that after the kiss. She shouted angrily at me. She hoped that Edward would fight me, and she called me a "dog." I helped her into the car. We bickered all the way to her house. I told her she would think about our kiss that night. She told me if she thought of me she would be having a "nightmare." I begged her to think about her life with me, instead of him. She "wouldn't have to change," and we could be happy, and I promised not to hurt her. I brought up Edward leaving her, and she shot back that I had stopped seeing her too. I tried to protest—that was for her protection. I told her that she had "kissed me back," and she insisted that I had misread her actions—that she was trying to fight me off, but I knew I was right. She was the deluded one.

I told her I was sorry that she had hurt her hand. As we pulled up to her house, she asked why I was taking her there, and I realized that she considered the Cullens' as her home as much if not more than she did her own home—that realization caused me considerable agony. I offered to take her to the hospital, but she wanted to go inside and call Edward. She told me to "go home," but I followed her inside the house. The confrontation with Edward was something I was looking forward to. How would he handle me kissing her? I ached for it to turn into a fight.

Charlie greeted us as we walked into the house. He made a particular point of telling me he was glad to see me in their house. Charlie seemed to notice that Bella was in a bad mood; he asked me what was up with Bella. I told him she thought she had "broken her hand." He asked how she had done such a thing, and I laughed and told him "she hit me." He laughed at that too and then asked why she hit me, and I told him "because I kissed her." He congratulated me. All this only seemed to irritate Bella more. She put ice on her hand and called Edward. She asked him to pick her up and take her to Carlisle. He wanted to know why, and she explained that she hit me. She told him that she "[wished she had hurt _me_]." He must have offered to oblige because she agreed eagerly. Then he seemed to ask what had brought on the punch in the first place because she answered, "He kissed me."

At that point, Charlie suggested I leave, but I was too curious to leave. We all heard his car noisily coming to a stop outside. Bella crossed the room to get the door. Charlie seemed to feel that he wasn't being the responsible parent and suddenly asked about her hand. She answered that her hand was swelling. Edward was controlled and gentle with her as he examined her hand. He agreed that it might be broken and praised her for the strength of her punch. He kissed her hand and promised to "take care of it," and I knew he meant both me and her hand. He called my name, and Charlie got uncomfortable, saying he didn't want any trouble. Bella insisted that she was the only one causing trouble, and Edward moved her toward the door, ready to take her to his father, the doctor. He put his arm around her, and I watched with longing the way she leaned into him and how the contact made her pinched shoulders relax. She was so comfortable in his arms, the arms of a vampire. It made no sense, and my jealousy flared so that I could almost taste it in my mouth, bitter and unpleasant.

I watched him help her to the car and then I followed. Charlie thought I was insane, but I wasn't done toying with Edward yet. He only turned to face me when he had her safely in his car. Then he threatened me. The crux of it was that I had to return Bella to him in the "condition" in which he had left her with me—damage of any kind would not be tolerated. If I kissed her again, he would do better than punch me; he promised to "break [my] jaw for her." I asked him what he would do if she wanted me to kiss her. He claimed that he would tolerate that but encouraged me to get verbal consent first. The whole time Bella protested that she wouldn't be seeing me again.

Then he got serious. He told me that he would "be fighting for her, too" and that he wouldn't be "taking anything for granted," and that he would be "fighting twice as hard as [I would be]." These were the terms. This was what I was waiting for. I answered his challenge. I told him, "Good … it's no fun beating someone who forfeits." He came back at me, declaring Bella "[was] his" and that he wouldn't "fight fair." Neither would I. I hadn't been fighting fair already, and I was more desperate than he was. I tried to goad him by suggesting the "best_ man_" win, but he countered by calling me a "pup." Then we were done. I tried to apologize to Bella for her hand, but she looked away from me and didn't look at me as they drove away.

It had been thrilling to enrage and engage Edward in those few minutes. The civilities were still there, but each of us was promising the other that in the battle between us, those civilities would disappear—each completely focused on the object of our contest, Bella, and our desire to either outdo or destroy the other. He thought I was inexperienced and naïve, and I was in some ways. But he was too confident and underestimated how much Bella cared about my happiness. I was sure he was not prepared to be as desperate as I was to win her. But there were also uncertainty and pain for me. Bella had refused to look at me before she left. I didn't know what to do with that.

She didn't call, but when I dreamed, I dreamed of our kiss and of the images I had as we kissed, of my ripping her clothes off to expose her naked body and what happened after that. The next day, Charlie called to invite Billy and me to Bella's graduation ceremony. We cheered encouragement as Bella crossed the stage and received her diploma. We knew that Charlie wanted to take Bella out for dinner, so we made our excuses and left after the ceremony. Once at home, I got myself ready for the party and called Quil and Embry to make sure they were still up for this. They absolutely loathed the idea of being at the Cullens', but they were willing to do it for me. I took out Bella's gift—the silver linked bracelet with the wooden wolf charm. Billy had showed me how to do it, and I had spent weeks making the tiny, wooden wolf for her. I placed the charm bracelet in a small drawstring bag.

At first, I hadn't considered actually going to Bella's graduation party, but I couldn't let things lie as they were. Kissing Bella, her hurting her hand, and her not even looking at me afterward. I had to make sure she forgave me, and I had her gift as my excuse. At the party, she couldn't cause a scene and neither could he—plenty of witness to protect me, us—that's part of how I convinced Quil and Embry. We ran through the forest to get there. The smell was just as bad as I imagined it would be, concentrated by seven, but the presence of so many regular humans made it a little less repulsive—diluted in some way. We could hear the loud music from outside the door. I rang the bell twice, and when no one answered, I let us in. I saw Bella heading for the stairs and called her name. She didn't look happy to see me.

When she turned away from us, I moved toward her in haste. I grabbed her and wouldn't let her leave me, isolating her from the main action of the party. We argued, and I countered that I had a graduation present for her. She told me to "take it back," and I told her that I couldn't; it was something I had made just for her. She was distracted while we talked; her eyes constantly glancing away from me searching for someone or something. This irritated me, and I cupped her face in my hand and forced her to look at me. She yanked away from my touch, and I apologized for kissing her. I said that it was "wrong" that I had "deluded" myself. She accepted my apology with my promptings.

She was still distracted, so I pouted and suggested that I understood if she wanted to be "with [her] _real_ friends." It worked; my pain cut through her annoyance at me. She focused on me and demanded to see my present. At first, she thought the bag was the present, but I explained the present was inside the bag. I helped her open it. She said the charm was "beautiful" and seemed to mean it. I explained that Billy had taught me. I helped her put it on, and I asked if she would wear it. She said she would. I smiled; I knew that it would irritate the "bloodsucker." All of a sudden it occurred to me that her distraction could mean that something was going on—that she knew something that we didn't.

I demanded to know what Bella knew. She hesitated. She didn't know exactly. I realized that Alice must have seen something—that was who she was looking for. I demanded that she tell me what she did know. I looked at Quil and Embry by the door, and they understood immediately that something was going on. They shouldered their discomfort and made their ways to me swiftly. We waited on Bella's explanation. But then Bella saw Alice and said her name, and the little Cullen moved deftly to Bella's side. She said she needed to talk to Bella, and as Bella tried to walk away from me, I blocked both of their paths and told them we wanted to know what was going on.

Suddenly, the one who could calm emotions, the young blond male, Jasper, was there; his expression was threatening. I pulled my arm back but defended our right to know. It got tense for a few moments, and then Alice agreed that we had a right to know. She began to explain. The decision had been made. "They" were coming to Forks. This didn't make sense to us, but we read the distress that the words triggered. Jasper said that there weren't enough of them to protect Forks. Alice reiterated that there weren't enough of them. Bella seemed to suggest that she meet them, sacrifice herself to stop them. I demanded to know "what [was] coming."

Alice answered that vampires were coming, a lot of them, and they were coming for Bella. I tried to confirm what I understood. There were too many for the seven Cullens? Jasper suggested that it would be "an even fight." They needed help! A fight that involved killing a bunch of vampires all set on hurting Bella—it was tantalizing. I knew Sam would agree. He wouldn't like working with the Cullens, but he would be more alarmed by a massive vampire attack on our turf. I smiled and said, "It won't be _even_." Alice was elated. She understood the offer immediately. She said that her vision had suddenly disappeared—now that we were involved, but she would take that over whatever horrific vision she had seen before.

We started talking about coordination. Bella seemed to suddenly grasp that the Cullens and the pack would be fighting to protect her and didn't want to put any of us in danger. Classic. Quil, Embry, and I laughed at her. We were all confident. We started to talk strategy, the three of us and the vampires, but the party wasn't really the best setting. We agreed to meet at three in the morning in a clearing for coordination efforts and some "instruction." Jasper and I mused over the uniqueness of working together on this, and we went to leave, so we could fill Sam in. Bella begged me not volunteer for this, and I laughed her concern off.

Sam was appalled at both the ideas of a hoard of vampires descending on Forks to kill Bella and whoever else got in the way and of working with the Cullens, but he was practical too. There wasn't much of an alternative, neither the Cullens nor our pack of ten could take out twenty-one vampires and not be severely crippled in the attempt. These attacking vampires only expected to fight the Cullens; we would give our side the element of surprise and ten more fighters. We were all eager for the fight. Restraining ourselves from attacking the Cullens, though killing vampires was our reason for being, was grating on all of us. Now, finally, there was a host of vampires we were free to slaughter. We couldn't wait. The Cullens didn't exactly know the pack stood at ten; I had been careful with my thoughts around Edward, but they would know now. We were all curious about "the instruction" they intended to give us. The elders had passed down all their knowledge; we didn't expect to learn much new. Our biggest concern was how hard it would be to retain control as werewolves near the Cullens. Our instincts would encourage us to attack them, and we needed to suppress those. Sam had worried about how we would communicate with the Cullens when we were wolves, but I reminded him that Edward could read minds and could probably act as translator for us. It would be an interesting meeting.

The time came, and Sam led us through the forest. We followed their sickly sweet smell to the clearing. The Cullens were there waiting for us. Bella had come and was standing with Edward, holding his hand. The leader moved toward us and greeted us. As I expected, Edward translated Sam's thoughts to the rest of his family and Bella. The leader, then, explained that the young blond male, Jasper, would demonstrate how the newborns fought and how it was best to fight them. We were surprised to think of these newborn vampires as different from the Cullens, and Sam asked for that to be explained. The leader explained that the newborns had more strength than older vampires but that their attack methods would be simplistic and direct.

The count stood at twenty newborns, and the leader suggested splitting the number between us, the wolves and the Cullens. There were growls of enthusiasm from almost all of us; we were willing to take more than ten, and Sam said so. Sam asked how we would prepare for their arrival, and the leader said that Alice was watching for them and would tell us in advance. We had the logistical information that we needed; it was time for this so called "instruction," so Sam thanked the leader and told him we would watch.

Jasper faced the Cullens and began. Because the newborns were stronger, you should avoid letting a newborn get his or her arms around you, and because they lacked sophistication in their fighting techniques, you should avoid a direct attack. Doing the unexpected in your attack was the best strategy. Jasper had the big, dark haired male attack him to demonstrate a newborn attack. It was fascinating. Jasper evaded the big one easily and his sidelong attack was unusual but just as effective as he had predicted. It was more informative than we had anticipated, and all of us acknowledged that in low growls. Edward wanted to go next, but Jasper called Alice forward. She looked so little compared to the big one that I thought it would be a snap for Jasper. I wasn't the only one who thought so. Jared bet Embry ten bucks that Jasper would win. I knew she would be able to predict what he would do, but I didn't think it would be enough for her to beat him.

Their fight was even more fascinating than the one between Jasper and the big one. She moved so fast and always just before it looked like he would seize her. She was playing with him, I realized with a shock. She could have had him much earlier, but she wanted to make him feel like it was a challenge, and then she had him, her lips at his throat. It was impressive, really impressive. Jasper called her a "frightening little monster," and that she was. We all acknowledged that. It was a good thing that she couldn't see us. None of us wanted a Cullen to have the kind of advantage in fighting one of us that Alice clearly had over her mate.

Edward was next. His mind reading would give him an advantage, but I didn't know how much. Jasper and Edward went at each other again and again. This was the most instructive fight yet. Jasper used every unconventional move he could think of to turn the contest in his favor, but Edward always knew just enough to get away and yet he couldn't gain the advantage either. Jasper's repertoire of unconventional moves was impressive, and we all thought of ways of adapting them. The leader stopped them after a while when it became clear that they could keep at it for a lot longer with neither gaining a decisive edge. Then Jasper worked with each of them in turn. The other fights were interesting, but we had learned the most from Alice's and Edward's, and we had learned—much more than we thought we would. We also realized that the Cullens had made themselves vulnerable to us by allowing us to watch and analyze their fighting techniques so intimately. Sam wasn't sure how he wanted to deal with that knowledge and neither did the rest of us. It made us closer allied than we wanted to think about.

Sam requested that each of us be able to smell each of the Cullens. Knowing their individual scents would make us better able to avoid a mistake during the fight if our fighting the newborns happened to bring us in close proximity to the Cullen fight. They agreed and held still for us. As we made our way past the Cullens, I felt Bella's gaze on me. She had seen me as a wolf before, but only briefly and in times of danger. I wondered what would happen here, and I couldn't resist going over to explore that possibility. She could be repulsed, of course, but Bella was so good with weird. I thought I would take my chances. Plus, if her response was positive, I would get to annoy the hell out of Edward. It was too tempting.

I padded over to her. I could feel Edward's eyes riveted to Bella's face to watch her reaction. I brought my face down so it was even with hers and looked into her eyes. She whispered my name, and I made a low noise in my throat. She lifted her hand and stroked the fur on my face, taking in the texture. It felt great. I closed my eyes and pushed my head against her hand, the low noise in my throat getting louder. She stroked the fur on my neck as well and moved closer to me. I realized that she was close enough that I could lick her face. Dogs did that—could I get away with it? Edward would definitely see it as a kiss, but Bella might just see it as what a dog might do to its owner, and she did own me, I belonged to her. If only I could get her to belong to me. I turned my face toward her and licked her face. She jumped away, batting at me and saying "gross," but when I laughed in response even though as a wolf, she laughed with me. I was forgiven my trespass by Bella at least.

They were all disgusted. I could hear the annoyance of the pack behind me, and the accusations that I was provoking Edward unfairly. I could also see the tension and bewilderment on every Cullen's face, Edward's betrayed some stronger emotions which he struggled to master. It made me laugh harder. Since I didn't seem to be leaving Bella's side, Edward walked toward us and took Bella's hand. He tried to shepherd her away from me, but I had questions I wanted answered. What was he going to do with Bella during the fight? He wasn't sure yet. That wasn't good enough. I wanted to know the specifics. I wanted to know she was safe. Of course, half of this conversation was in Edward's head. Bella wanted to know what we were talking about, and I wanted to speak directly in front of them, so I ran toward the forest to phase and change. Most of the pack was leaving with Sam, but Quil and Embry waited for me in the forest.

When I returned in human form, Edward and I continued to argue about what to do with Bella during the fight. She didn't like that. She didn't like the idea of being left behind somewhere. Too bad, I thought; she needed to be safe. I thought Bella should stay at La Push with the younger werewolves (Collin and Brady). Edward disagreed. He said it had to be somewhere "hard to find." I suggested further up in the mountains. He said that his taking her there would risk a very distinct trail—too easy to follow. Then it occurred to me that although Bella and Edward's scent together would be very distinct to a hunting vampire, Bella's scent might not be distinct if it was combined with a werewolf's scent. What if I took Bella up to the mountains? What would the combination of my scent and Bella's scent be like to a vampire? Edward conceded that it was an interesting idea even before I got the words out.

He called Jasper over, who was accompanied by Alice. I tried to explain to Bella. Edward didn't like the idea of me carrying her, but he was willing to try this. He encouraged her to let me carry her. I caught her up in my arms and made a loop through the forest. She was clearly uncomfortable, but I didn't care. I ran, and I could hear them behind me. I brought her back to the clearing and resisted putting her down until we were closer to Edward despite her protest. She called me "annoying," but I was having fun. Once she was on her feet, she crossed to Edward and took his hand. It was a "success"; my scent "masked" Bella's. Jasper said he had "an idea," and Alice saw that it would "work," and Edward commented on the cleverness of the idea. I couldn't imagine living like that all the time. It was bad enough for us to be in each other's heads when we were wolves, but they had hardly said anything, and they had a whole confident plan worked out. I asked Bella how she could tolerate it.

Edward now explained. Bella would "leave a false trail to the clearing" that the newborns would follow to be sucked into our traps; half going to fight the Cullens and half walking into a fight with us, the pack, that they would be completely unprepared for. Jasper had another thought that Edward rejected instantly. Alice seemed to be more annoyed than I was, because she stepped on Jasper's foot to get him to explain. His idea was to have Bella in the clearing during the fight. He said that her presence would drive them wild and make it easier to kill them. I agreed with Edward. It was too dangerous for Bella. I didn't understand how he could even suggest it. Edward could hear my thoughts and he attempted to defend his brother. We refocused on the plan. Friday afternoon, Edward and Bella would "lay the false trail," and then I could take her to the hiding spot.

Something was missing. I didn't like the idea of Bella being left alone. What if something happened? What if there was something that we hadn't taken into consideration? What if Seth was ordered to stay with Bella? He could tell us, the pack, if there was any trouble instantly in his wolf form. Again, I didn't have to speak my thoughts for Edward to understand. Again, he conceded that it was a good idea. I explained to Bella, but she was beyond coherency at this point, too tired to focus on much. Edward seemed genuinely relieved at the idea of Seth there with Bella. In that moment, all we both cared about was Bella's safety, and we were actually able to joke about working together before he took her home.

I left with Quil and Embry to find Sam and tell him about the false trail plan and to see if he agreed with me about the Seth assignment. He agreed. We also discussed the next training session. Technically only one of us needed to see these demonstrations because that one could share his or her memories with the whole pack in painfully crisp clarity as we all knew. This first night, we had all gone for a range of reasons: as a test to see if we could stand it, as a test to see if they could be trusted, and to get their individual scents. The following night, I would go, and Sam wanted me to bring Quil and Embry as back-up. I left Sam to get some sleep. It was late afternoon when I woke. I pulled myself out of bed and got something to eat. Then I left the house to find Quil and Embry.

When the time came, we entered the clearing and took positions to watch. Most of the Cullens were already there; their smell permeated the air. Edward and Bella arrived and stood off to the side. Once they were all there, Jasper started with the big one again, and again Jasper took turns with each of them. What confused me was that Edward was not taking his turn. He remained at Bella's side, but his eyes were intent on each fight. Bella looked worried; she worried about the wrong things. I got up and padded over to her. Edward greeted me, but I was only interested in Bella. I whined, and she explained she was worried. I thought "that's really stupid," why? But he edited my words. I objected, and Edward repeated my exact words commenting on them being "rude." Edward said that Jasper wanted help and excused himself. Bella sat on the ground, and I lay down next to her in such a way that I could still watch the fights. I realized she was cold, and I pressed against her so the heat of my body would warm her. She leaned into me, and we sat like that pressed against each other, both utterly content but for completely different reasons.

She started stroking my fur, and I thrummed my contentment at her touch and her closeness. She told me she had never had a dog, and I laughed. She was still worried, and then she shifted the conversation to our hike and worried that it would be tiring for me. I laughed again. I was sure I could keep up with her vampire. She nestled into me some more, to keep warm, I knew, but I couldn't help thinking of other reasons for her wanting to nestle into me and I fantasized about those as we lay there and the others practiced. When it was over, he took her home, and Quil, Embry, and I headed home to recount what we had seen to Sam and others and get some sleep.

The next day when Bella called, I was out. We were all at Sam and Emily's eating and talking strategy. Billy called and told me that Bella had said to meet them in about an hour. I finished eating and ran to the clearing. I waited behind the screen of the trees watching them, Edward and Bella. He helped her into a thick winter jacket and took her hand. It annoyed me that he was so prepared. I clutched at the extra jacket I had brought for her angrily. She laughed at his joke and asked where they would meet me, and I walked through the trees, my face tight and my expression controlled. Neither one of them seemed thrilled with the idea of me carrying Bella for the nine mile hike, but I would take what I could get. I was looking forward to it. I had things I wanted to talk to her about, but I was careful to think about the pack, so I wouldn't tip the mind reader off. Edward showed me the place on a map where he wanted me to take her. He explained that he would go a different way and meet us there. Then he left us.

I was instantly happier once he was out of sight and smell and I was alone with Bella. It was easier too when I didn't have to hide my thoughts. I ticked her off right away when I caught up her legs first causing her to fall backwards while I caught the rest of her before she hit the ground. With her securely in my arms, I started running. Though his scent, their scents, lingered on her, I ignored that. She thought I would get tired, and I explained that I wouldn't. We talked back and forth. I realized that there was a new charm on her bracelet: a heart shaped crystal. I sneered at the idea of the stone "bloodsucker" giving her a rock. And I was annoyed that the "bloodsucker" had wormed his way into something else that was between Bella and me.

I changed the subject. I wanted her to consider her options. I asked her about coming to see me. She was evasive. I asked her if she had considered my offer from the last time she was at La Push—that she choose me. She said "no." I didn't believe it. I refused to believe her; she had to have been thinking about me. We bickered back and forth. I told her she needed to have more experience than just Edward. I asked her if he was "a better kisser than I [was]"? She answered that she had only kissed Edward. I countered that, and she told me that she didn't count our kiss as a kiss; she considered it "an assault." That stung. She was right, of course. I hadn't asked her, she had protested, and I had ignored her protest. But it was for her own good. I took a new tact. I suggested that she kiss someone else then—so she would be able to compare kissing Edward to that someone. I volunteered myself, and I hugged her closer to my chest. She told me to behave, but I wouldn't. I suggested that she could ask me; we were allowed to kiss if she asked me, but that only made her angry with me.

I changed topics again. I told her I thought she liked me better as a wolf. She suggested that was because I couldn't speak as a wolf, but I suggested that "physically" I made her nervous as a human because she was fighting her attraction to me. She assured me that that was not the case and called me "an enormous monster who refuse[d] to respect anyone else's personal space." I leaned my face toward hers, considering whether I would kiss her and risk a fight with Edward when we had so much to deal with already. Though it was tempting, I knew Sam would kill me if I did that. So I laughed and admitted that I didn't want a fight with Edward, not right then. The Cullens needed all their players for the next day. Suddenly, Bella was upset and on the verge of tears. I begged her to tell me what was wrong.

She told me that Edward wasn't fighting the next day; he was staying with Bella; she couldn't be without him. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that he would give up the opportunity of this fight for her. I couldn't imagine missing it. I was so hyped up at the prospect. Nothing would have held me back from it, and then it occurred to me that she might find that noble? Would she think he was making more of a sacrifice for her than I would be willing to make? I told her that it didn't "mean anything"—that I wouldn't miss the fight for her and he would. I insisted that "I [knew her] better." Then she started worrying about me during the fight, and suddenly I had to know why—why did I matter so much to her? I wanted a different answer, but she said that I was her "best friend." I confirmed that I was, "bad behavior and all," but I wanted her to realize that she loved me. I told her she could love both of us, and in her anger she shot back that she wasn't a "freaky werewolf" (referencing the Leah/Emily love disaster Sam and the rest of us had to endure). That hurt too.

We were close to the campsite. I could smell him. The weather was turning, and I encouraged her to get into the tent before it hit. She was surprised to realize I was going to wait out the night with them—not in the tent but as a wolf in the shelter of the trees. It occurred to her that I could stay with them during the battle, and she attempted to convince me, but there was no way I was going to miss the fight, even if Bella begged. She asked me if I was second in command of the pack and why I hadn't told her that before. I couldn't tell her. I had accepted being Sam's second because I wouldn't accept being the Alpha. I wanted to be able to stop being a werewolf as soon as I could for her, to be with Bella as a regular human. I tried to evade her questions, but she was determinedly persistent. I could feel my cheeks burning at times as I hid my motivations from her. Finally, I admitted that I was supposed to be the Alpha because of my ancestry, and I explained that "I didn't want to step up." But I wouldn't say any more than that. I tried to express the conflict I felt at being a werewolf, and she called me "Chief Jacob." I blew it off, but listening to her speak the words, address me by a title, had a strangely seductive appeal. A chief had power over his tribe, and I wanted power, but not over a tribe. I wanted power over Bella. I wanted her to be mine, and mine alone.

I got her to the campsite. Edward flew to us and pulled Bella into an embrace. I tried to control myself, but I recoiled from him. Edward thanked me. He was so obviously relieved to be with her again. I left them to change. I was warm enough curled into a ball in the undergrowth with my super accelerated body temperature, but I was surprised by how drastically the temperature dropped. In the tent above me, Bella was freezing. The winter jacket and the sleeping bag weren't enough. I whined. Edward and I bickered over what to do about the situation. It was bad enough in the shelter of the tent, but the storm outside was worse. If we broke camp to try and get Bella somewhere warm, we would also have the problem of having to hide her again the next day and the problem of leaving extra trails.

When Edward suggested I "fetch a space heater," it occurred to me that I had warmed her body the previous night. He would absolutely hate the idea, and that made it all the more appealing to me. What choices did we have? She couldn't make it through the night like this. If I was going to do this, I wasn't going to make it easy for either of them. I would warm her against my human form. I phased grabbed the extra jacket as my excuse and carefully climbed into the tent. I concentrated on the extra coat plan, ignoring his stench in the enclosed space, and Edward told me to "give [it to] her and get out." My real plan came to the forefront of my mind. Edward "snarled." He actually put his hand on me, and I told him to "get off." Edward was livid. I couldn't blame him, but when I suggested frost-bite, he relented, and I got into the sleeping bag with Bella. She protested at first, but she was too cold. She pressed herself against my warm body, and I flinched as she pressed her frozen fingers to me, and her lips, and her toes.

I soothed her by telling her that Edward was just jealous—and I could only imagine how much. I knew he would have given anything to be warming her himself. It was sort of fun baiting him with snide comments. Bella asked me to behave. I was sure I couldn't. Then Bella asked me why my fur was longer than the others. I explained that that was because the hair on my head was longer. She was still curious and asked why I had my hair longer than my brothers' and Leah's. I didn't want to answer. Edward chuckled. I would rather tell her than have him explain my thoughts, so I blurted out that she liked my hair longer, so I was growing it out for her. She was embarrassed for a moment, but she was also getting truly warm, and because it was so late, she began drifting off to sleep.

Seth arrived outside as a wolf and settled himself in the undergrowth like I had done earlier. I was very comfortable and beginning to get a little sleepy myself. My mind drifted until Edward was hissing at me. I realized that I had been thinking about Bella and me and that Edward was upset by the images in my head. He demanded that I control my thoughts. I told him to "get out of my head." We bickered. He admitted that he was jealous. We continued to annoy each other, and then I wondered if he would answer some of my questions—if he would let me into his mind, this one night. He said he would try. He said all he could hear were questions, what did I want answered first?

I wanted to know how bad his jealousy was and how badly it distracted him. He admitted to the jealousy being bad, but he said that his mind was different than mine and he could think of other things even when he was jealous. I asked about how often Bella thought of me, and he told me he knew I used my happiness to manipulate her. I told him that Bella loved me. We created an odd accord of sorts. He hated that I was warming Bella, but he hated the idea of her freezing more. I conceded that he had more patience that I did. He said that he had gained it waiting "a hundred years" for Bella. I wanted to know why he had stopped preventing her from seeing me, and he told me that mostly he was afraid she would get hurt trying to see me if he kept trying to prevent it. I asked what he would do if Bella picked me; he said he wasn't sure. I wanted to know if he would try to kill me then, but he said he wouldn't; Bella's happiness would be more important than his own pain. We admitted it would be fun to see who won a fight between the two of us. Then I asked him about losing her because I was facing that prospect soon myself. He talked about when they had all left, but he wasn't able to describe how he felt when he thought she had died.

I focused on his desire for her to stay human, and he explained the four options that she saw for them. The first was for Bella to not care for him and continue with her life though he loved her desperately. The second was for him to stay with Bella for her human life and die after she did. The third was what he had tried in September, to leave in an attempt to force her back to the first option. The fourth was to agree to let Bella become a vampire. I conceded that he did love her, but I begged Edward to try option one again. I told him I had a plan—and I knew he would see flashes of my plan (the slow and persistent gains, the use of alcohol to break her into the idea of an escalating sexual relationship with me)—and though I was worried that the manipulation and deception involved in the success of my plan would offend him—he only laughed and conceded that it was a "well thought-out plan." His reaction made me wonder about what devious lengths he had gone to win her. But he wouldn't leave her again unless she wanted him to. It would be up to Bella, he said. I didn't believe he really meant that. I knew I wouldn't leave it up to Bella. I wasn't now. I was still fighting; I would always fight. And so would he.

I asked him if he had considered whether I was better for her than he was. He said that he had; he had even asked Alice about it, but Alice couldn't see me, so she couldn't see a future with Bella and me together, and she did see Edward and Bella together. Then he asked me to think of the third wife's story. I didn't see why, but I let the story fill my mind, and he groaned. He explained that what concerned him about the story were the models the third wife and her sacrifice presented to Bella. I saw his point. We agreed to end our civilities in the morning, and we bickered a little bit before I drifted off to sleep with Bella in my arms, and though I made some effort to control my thoughts because I didn't want him to see them, my dreams drifted to Bella and me sleeping together in the sleeping bag, of us alone together, exploring each other through touches and kisses, our bodies pressed together, skin on skin, no inhibitions, no resistance.

Bella murmured in her sleep. She whispered his name off and on in her sleep. Each time it seemed like agony. Even in my arms, he pervaded her thoughts and unconscious desires. My cause was hopeless. And then she said, "Jacob, my Jacob." I was elated. She loved him, but she loved me too. How could I force her to acknowledge her love for me?

I was very warm and comfortable, when suddenly I was rolled onto the freezing tent floor. I jumped away from it and found myself on top of Bella, and then he threw me to the far side of the tent. I wanted to kill him. Rage flooded through me. We growled at each other, and my body started shaking in preparation for phasing. Bella stepped between us and placed her hands on us. She told us to stop it. I had the satisfaction of watching as Bella made Edward apologize to me. The long night of having to suffer me holding his girl friend in my arms, my fantasies, and Bella calling my name, must have cracked the careful composure he usually held together in front of Bella. We picked up with the taunting, but he won when he suggested that sleeping with Bella as I had last night wouldn't have made the "top ten of the best nights of [his] life." That was too much for me to think about, and I was happy to get away from them and return to the pack with the fight to look forward to. Before I could go, Bella started on me, asking me to stay. I wouldn't, and I left or I appeared to leave. I waited in the trees and listened to them. I was hoping he would be mad at her for needing me like that during the night, but that isn't what I heard.

I heard them affirm that they would "stay together" during the fight "no matter what." He mentioned distracting her, and I realized with some disgust that he was thinking about physically distracting her. I wasn't sure I could listen to that, but apparently she was still too cold. She asked him to tell her his ten best nights. He suggested that she guess, and she said that she knew only hers; he encouraged her by saying that their best nights "might be the same." I knew staying for this was a bad idea, but I was morbidly curious. I didn't understand all the references. Bella's first was "the night he stayed"—well, that was obvious. The night he spent the night in her room doing God knows what with her. This brought them to the topic of Bella talking in her sleep, and she demanded to know what she had said last night. He told her, mostly his name. It was true, and it had annoyed the hell out of me. But then before dawn she had murmured "Jacob" and "my Jacob." Hearing her say my name in her sleep had sent shivers down my spine. He told her about saying my name, and she said that she had two separate ways of seeing me; her Jacob was her friend, and just plain Jacob was the jerk. I shouldn't have stayed. I had a much better explanation for "Jacob, my Jacob" in my head, and here Bella was ruining it.

They returned to best nights. Bella's second was coming home from Italy; her third was the night after Italy. I didn't follow those. She asked if she had gotten the best one yet. He said "no," and he told her that his best night was "two nights ago, when [she] finally agreed to marry [him]." NO! It couldn't be! She couldn't have agreed to do that. My mind filled with horror and pain. He asked her if it made her list, and she agreed that it did. Ugh! It was worse. She wanted to marry him or some part of marrying him. It was too much. I couldn't take it. I howled out in pain and ran away.

The forest flew past me. I wanted to get to the fight as fast as possible to distract me from my pain, and then I heard him behind me running after me. I couldn't believe it. I thought I might be going mad. What could he possibly want? What was he going to do, rub it in further? He was taking her away from me, and I hated him for being everything to her that I wanted to be. I turned to face him. I knew he could hear all that was running through my head, so I just waited. He said that Bella was upset that she had caused me pain, and he requested that I return with him, so that she could talk to me. I couldn't comprehend why he would be doing this even if it was so. Didn't he want me out of the picture as much as I wanted him out? He answered one of my silent questions. He said that he couldn't bear to make Bella unhappy, and it was important to her to ease my pain. Of course, it was. I knew that and used it, and he knew all of that too.

I tried to keep my desperate thoughts hidden. I knew what I would do whether she let me or not, but I didn't want him to change his mind about Bella talking to me. We ran back. He went to speak with her—to tell her that he would leave her alone with me while Seth and he coordinated with the pack about a "complication." He promised not to listen. He kissed her and left with Seth. I wasn't facing her. I was trying to control my thoughts until I knew he was gone. I turned around. I was angry. I told Bella to hurry up. She began apologizing to me. She was sorry she had hurt me and she would stay away from me. I told her I didn't want her to go. She was beating herself up for hurting me. I turned it around and told her I had been hurting her too by making it harder than it needed to be, and I suggested that I make things easier by taking "myself out of the picture." I didn't mean it, of course. But I knew she wouldn't be able to bear the threat of pain to me (look at what she had done for Edward after all when he was going to kill himself over her; she had faced the threat of death). Surely, to save me, she would brave a kiss. She begged me not to let anything happen to myself, to come back to her. She offered to do anything, and I called her on it. I prompted her to ask me. She didn't get it the first time, but then she said it, she asked me to kiss her, exactly what I wanted her to do.

I was absolutely desperate. I was angry and excited. This had to work. I had to completely break down her defenses. I had been too gentle with her at my house; she retained her delusion that I was her friend and that she didn't return the love I felt for her. My excitement verged on violence. I trapped her face in my hands and crushed my lips to hers, ignoring his sickly sweet smell on her. She was passive in my arms, and I felt down the length of her arms to her hands and forced her to wind her arms around me. I pulled her body tightly to me, molding her form to mine. I released her lips and ran my mouth around her jaw and neck, and then I whispered in her ear, "You can do better than this." I begged her to really feel what she was doing, and then I threatened her with my life again. That seemed to do something. She wasn't passive in my arms any longer; her hands wound into my hair, and I was elated. I crushed my lips to hers again, and it was everything I imagined and more; she kissed me back and she was responding to me, pulling me closer. She wanted me! I had done it! I had forced her to see that she loved me, and I hoped with all my soul that it was enough, that she would choose me.

After several moments of intense kissing, it was time for me to go. I had to be there when the fight started. Reluctantly, I stopped kissing her. When she looked up at me with her beautiful chocolate brown eyes, I was staring into her face. I told her I had to go. She protested, but I promised to return soon. I wanted to protect her from his anger as soon as I could. I kissed her very gently on the lips and told her "_that_ should have been our first kiss." And I left her. I was worried about the reaction of the "bloodsucker," but I was sure I would be back quickly to help Bella deal with it. He would know I had kissed her; he would have listened to it, and he would get it again through the pack mind. I phased and ran as fast as I could. I could feel the collective pack groan as they read my exultation and the reason behind it. No one wanted to be thinking about kissing at the moment. Sam's voice was in my head almost instantly. He ordered me to pay attention—to put Bella in the back of my mind and concentrate on the task ahead. He suggested thinking about all the blond vampire's unconventional attack strategies. I assented.

We could hear and smell the newborns as they came toward us, and the bloodlust welled in me. Leah caught one and Sam helped her with it. Paul and I took down another one. Quil and Embry got one. Paul and Sam took down another. We were still in touch with Seth with Bella and Edward and Collin and Brady in La Push. We all gasped as the danger to Seth, Edward, and Bella registered. Two vampires were coming for them; I howled my agitation. We watched anxiously as Seth and Edward coordinated their attack; we were all completely focused on the newborns in front of us, but an extra part of us seemed to be able to take in the other conflict, the other danger, as well as the lack of danger at La Push. Chagrin flashed through me. Seth and Edward were about to take on the more difficult assault—if only I had listened to Bella, I would be defending her with Edward. Embry and I brought down another newborn. Quil, Leah, and Jared took down another. Paul and Jared brought another. We could see that Seth and Edward were doing well against their vampires. Embry and Jared took down another one. It looked like we were done. Seth and Edward had eliminated their vampires and worked on burning them. We set to work on gathering the pieces of ours too.

Leah seemed strangely anxious, and although I didn't like her much, I found that my eyes were drawn to her—trying to find the source of her anxiety. In her mind, it wasn't specific—something left undone, left unfinished. She moved away from us, and suddenly she found it, a newborn hiding in the undergrowth. The image flashed in all our minds. Instead of backtracking and getting help, she lunged at it. I was closest to her. I felt Sam's panic that she would be hurt. I threw myself in her path, and I felt the newborn's arms wrap around me and squeeze. The pain was unbelievable. I felt the bones snap under the crushing force. I was helpless in the strength of that grasp. I could feel the collective pain of the pack as they felt my pain. Even Edward through Seth was feeling my pain. Sam raced toward me, and he and Paul destroyed my newborn tormentor.

I screamed in agony. Our nine newborns were taken care of, and the Cullens were finished with theirs, especially since Alice, lucky for them, without the handicap of werewolf interference, could confirm none of theirs were hiding. Their leader and Jasper came to see us. The doctor, Carlisle, examined me and offered to set the bones correctly once we were away from here and the Cullens had dealt with the coming Volturi threat—who would be there soon. He suggested that they, my brothers and sister, take me home to La Push, and after they had satisfied the Volturi, he would come to set my bones and give me pain medication. Sam agreed. The Cullens left to face the Volturi, but they seemed confident about that. Some of my brothers phased into human form, and they carried me home. Every bump was shooting pain. I howled the whole time, and the others who hadn't phased howled with me in sympathy. When we got closer to my house, we all phased. With the broken bones, the process was excruciating. I switched from howling to cursing. I made them up as I went, and I surprised myself by the extensive repertoire of my swearing, but it helped somehow to distract me from the pain—to yell these ridiculous, obscene words. It was like a violence I could throw back at the pain that was destroying me.

Even in my agony, I was anxious about Bella. I knew the conflict between Edward and Seth and the attacking vampires had gone well, but I wondered about before that, when he descended on his fiancée for kissing another man. Had he hurt her? Part of me wished he had—it would make it easier for her to choose me then. But another part of me knew that he would never loose control with her like that. He had demonstrated again and again his ability to show more control than I could. Still, he would force her to choose one of us, I was sure of that.

They brought me home, my pack brothers and sister, and they stayed with me and took turns trying to distract me. I lay in my bedroom screaming and cursing alternatively. Billy was beside himself. He checked on me and sat with me until he felt useless and then tried to make sure everyone else was okay. Charlie was there but didn't really know what to do with himself. My pack family members were all distraught by my pain which I couldn't hide from them. Then, Carlisle and Edward arrived; I could smell them. Carlisle had Billy and Sam and Edward come into my room with me, and they talked about pain medication dosage. I was all for the maximum. Anyone who had heard me screaming was for that too. So the good doctor, Carlisle, juiced me. The relief was wonderful. It didn't take as long as I had feared. The pain dulled, my muscles relaxed, and suddenly I was sleepy. And that was all I remembered until I woke up.

Billy fussed over me, but I didn't want anything. I was anxious to see Bella, to make sure she was alright, to know what happened between her and Edward after I left them, to know who she chose. I counted on his anger. I had kissed his fiancée, and she had finally responded to me; he would know all of that, especially that she had kissed me back and pulled me closer. I didn't think he would break off the engagement. I couldn't be that lucky. But the cocky bastard would demand that she choose, and now that she knew she loved me, I hoped that she couldn't be without me. I had worked so hard to make her dependent on me, she had to choose me. And yet part of me also knew that I could be wrong. That it could go the other way, and even knowing that she loved me wouldn't be enough. I tried to be prepared for either possibility, but I didn't want to accept the other. The other would mean she was lost to me, and I couldn't bear that, not now. I would deal with that only if I had to. I waited. It seemed like forever, and the uncertainty was a kind of pain almost as acute as the pain of the broken bones earlier.

Finally, I heard her truck. I pulled myself up and re-arranged the blanket and waited. I composed my face. Inside my head, I pleaded with her, "Please, please, Bella, choose me!" The door opened slowly. The anxiety on her face was easy to read; she was worried about me, but there was pain also, and I tried not to show the disappointment on my face as I understood the significance of that pain. She knew she loved me, but she chose him, HIM! My frustration flashed. It was such the wrong choice. I wasn't sure what more I could have done. CALM! I told myself. She asked how I was, and I told her I was all medicated up. I asked about her; I wanted to know how it had gone between them. I explained that I had been worried about her, about what he had done to her in response to our kiss. And what she said utterly dumbfounded me. Edward wasn't mad at her. Everything I had imagined hadn't happened: he didn't yell, he didn't threaten her, he didn't force her to choose. She said he wasn't even mad at me. She said that he only cared about her being "_happy_." _DAMN!_ He had played me, the filthy "bloodsucker." He knew exactly what I was going to do alone with Bella, and he turned it around on me. He used it to seem like the ultimate, self-sacrificing, hero. She really thought he would sacrifice his own happiness for hers. BASTARD!

I tried to explain to her. I tried to tell her he was "manipulating her." In the process, I realized that I was revealing that I was manipulating her too. In my anger, I blurted out, "He's playing every bit as hard as I am, only he knows what he's doing and I don't." She refused to see it. She was as delusional as always. She defended him and chided me for threatening suicide to get her to ask to be kissed. She wanted to know if it made any difference, her knowing that she loved me. It did to me, I told her. I had to know. I needed her to know and then make the choice knowing she loved me. She sat beside me and leaned her face against mine, and I reached out to hold her there, ignoring the vampire smell that engulfed her. She was miserable; she knew she was hurting me. She asked me to verbally abuse her, so I did, and she started crying. I hadn't meant to upset her that much. I moved to get up, and she told me to be still. I relaxed, but I pulled her down with me, against my good side, and I felt her nestle against me, and the longing to keep her there, to have her forever against me, was almost unbearable.

I told her that I was "going to give in and be good." She asked if that was just another strategy in my conquest, and I answered, "Maybe," but I didn't see how it could be. She was going to marry him. What more could I do? How could I fight for her after she was married? I told her I wouldn't try rip her apart like the story in the Bible of King Solomon and "the two women fighting over the baby." I told her how perfect I was for her in a normal world. But he wasn't normal. I told her his hold on her was like "a drug" addiction. She told me hesitantly that she had seen our life together but that it wasn't enough. I asked her about her marriage plans. It was the first time we had formally acknowledged it. She was cautious. I wanted to know when, when she would stop being my Bella, when she would be a vampire. She told me after the wedding. I asked her if she was scared, and she told me her fears. I promised her that I would always be waiting, hoping. I realized that I was reiterating Edward's warning to me that previous night in the tent, in a perverse reverse. I joked that I might still take her as a vampire—even though I knew that would be impossible. She wondered when I would find the love of my life and suggested she would be jealous of the girl. The idea of Bella as jealous of a girl in love with me was strangely appealing. Then it was time for her to go. She kissed me and told me that she loved me. I knew she did. I answered back that I "love[d her] more," and I watched her leave, wondering if I could ever bear to see her again. I wasn't sure.

Bella's Awakening: Part Three

And I, [Ophelia,] of ladies most deject and wretched, that sucked the honey of his

music vows…. O, woe is me t' have seen what I have seen, see what I see!

Ophelia, _Hamlet_ by William Shakespeare

I believe that, before all else [even my sacred duties as a wife and mother], I'm a

human being, not less than you [my husband]—or anyway, I ought to become

one…. I have to think over these things myself and try to understand them.

Nora Helmer, _A Doll's House_ by Henrik Ibsen

How strange and awful it seemed to stand naked under the sky! how delicious!

[Edna] felt like some new-born creature, opening its eyes in a familiar world that

it had never known.

Narrator, _The Awakening_ by Kate Chopin

Ah run off tuh keep house wid you in uh wonderful way. But you wasn't satisfied

wid me de way Ah was. Naw! Mah own mind had tuh be squeezed and crowed

out tuh make room for yours in me…. You ain't tried tuh pacify _nobody_ but

yo'self. Too busy listening tuh yo'own big voice…. All dis bowin' down, all dis

obedience under yo' voice—dat ain't what Ah rushed off down de road tuh find

out about you.

Janie Crawford, _Their Eyes Were Watching God_ by Zora Neale Hurston

Old Perspectives

I remembered the first day at school in Forks, Washington. I remembered seeing them, the Cullens (Rosalie and Emmett, Alice and Jasper, and Edward), sitting in the cafeteria like five models shooting a commercial—their un-worldly beauty, their pale skin, their dark eyes, their perfect features, and their unbelievable grace.

I remembered the cold fury in Edward's jet-black eyes when I came to sit next to him in biology.

I remembered the golden color of his eyes the day he spoke to me and the way that I could barely string together coherent words when I looked into his breath-taking face.

I remembered him saving me from being crushed by the van and the promise he made to explain why I was lying for him.

I remembered the weeks when he wouldn't talk to me or acknowledge my presence.

I remembered the day he started talking to me again.

I remembered the Quileute legends Jacob told me about werewolves and vampires.

I remembered the sound of Edward's voice from the car as he saved me from the men in Port Angeles.

I remembered the way his skin sparkled in the meadow when he let me see him in the sunlight, and I remembered our first kiss that afternoon.

I remembered the night I knew he stayed all night in my room (though my father was oblivious).

I remembered the sound of his voice in the ballet studio when he saved me from James.

I remembered being forced to attend the prom and Jacob's warning from his father there.

I remembered the sound of Jasper snapping at me when I cut my finger at my eighteenth birthday party.

I remembered the words Edward used to say good-bye to me in the forest.

I remembered the feelings of being ripped apart, of missing pieces of my heart, and of not being able to breathe properly after the Cullens left Forks.

I remembered being in Jacob's garage and the comfort I found there and with him.

I remembered realizing that Jacob was a werewolf, and I remembered the werewolves driving Laurent away from me.

I remembered realizing that Victoria hadn't given up and was trying to get to me to avenge what Edward had done to James.

I remembered the anxiety of not knowing if Alice and I would make it in time to save Edward.

I remembered Edward's reaction to my sudden appearance in the shadows under the clock tower in Volterra.

I remembered meeting with Aro and the other Volturi ancients and their guard.

I remembered the journey home from Volterra.

I remembered the next morning when I realized it all wasn't a dream and that Edward was really back in my life.

I remembered realizing that he truly loved me.

I remembered his family members voting to include me in their immortal family.

I remembered Edward taking me to Florida to visit my mother and keep me away from Victoria's return to Forks.

I remembered finding ways to see Jacob even though Edward thought it unsafe.

I remembered Edward finally letting me see Jacob.

I remembered Jacob kissing me and punching him for taking that liberty.

I remembered realizing that my thief and newborn army of vampires were connected.

I remembered agreeing to marry Edward and Edward agreeing that we would try to make love before I was changed into a vampire.

I remembered demanding that Edward remain with me during the battle between the werewolves and his family and the newborn vampires.

I remembered asking Jacob to kiss me because he threatened to allow himself to be killed in the battle.

I remembered Victoria and Riley coming for us and Edward and Seth destroying them.

I remembered the Volturi after the battle, impressed with the Cullens and their destruction of the twenty vampires, the newborn army, and its creator, Victoria.

I remembered going to see Jacob and telling him that despite the fact that I realized that I loved him, it wasn't enough, that I loved Edward more, and that I chose Edward.

I remembered that I worshipped Edward, that I thought that he was perfect, physically, mentally, morally, intellectually, emotionally, and any other way that I could conceive of. He was a good person, and he was smart, attractive, talented in anything he did. I was so lucky that he loved me in the same desperate way that I loved him. More than all of this, I remembered that Edward had saved me time and time again.

I remembered that I loved Jacob too. He had been my best friend. He had gotten me through the most difficult time of my life, my time without Edward, and he had protected me from vampires who sought to destroy me, but it wasn't enough to change my more powerful desire for Edward.

New Perspective

I drove toward home after telling Jacob that I chose Edward, and as I drove, I thought about all that had taken place in the last few days. The events themselves were exactly the same, but suddenly I saw them differently. My perspective had changed. Jacob's angry words echoed in my ears, and I wound and rewound our conversation in my mind:

"He wasn't mad?... Well _damn_!... Damn it all. He's better than I thought."

….[And I had said,] "He's not playing any game, Jake."

…[And he continued,] "You bet he is. He's playing every bit as hard as I am, only he knows what he is doing and I don't. Don't blame me because he is a better manipulator than I am—I haven't been around long enough to learn all his tricks."

[I retorted,] "He isn't manipulating me!"

[And Jacob countered,] "Yes, he is! When are you going to wake up and realize that he's not as perfect as you think he is?"

"Play every bit as hard as I am," "he knows what he's doing," "better manipulator," "all his tricks," I turned over the words over and over again. Suddenly, it hit me. They were both manipulating me! Elaborate, convoluted, involved strategy was involved; each of them playing his hardest against the other. They were both completely dismissive of my wishes and desires; both denying me agency in my relationships with them. I realized that I was the trophy that Edward and Jacob played for; they may have loved me, but the contest, the fight, the chase, was what drove them now. Edward had told Jacob, "She _is_ mine!" and they declared their battle and their fighting tactics which were essentially by any means necessary. Jacob rose to the challenge by saying, "It's no fun beating someone who forfeits." It was the thrill of the conquest that drove them. How was this any different than James? Sure, James had wanted to kill me, but it was the hunt and the contest against the Cullens that drove his desire for me. To Edward and Jacob, I was never an equal or a partner. I was the weak human who needed protection and perpetual rescuing to Edward, and I was Jacob's "little porcelain doll" who again needed protection and rescuing from vampires. I was lied to, manipulated, and abused in the games they played over me. They were not monsters because they were a vampire and a werewolf; they were monsters because they were men who abused a woman. There was no Snow White or Sleeping Beauty in this story, no prince to save the princess. My story was more like the Charles Perrault version of "Little Red Riding Hood."

I am not sure what it was, but there was some need to start with the fairy tales, the folk tales, the folk legends, the myths. Vampires and werewolves were of such tales. There had to be tales of women realizing they were dealing with monsters or confronting monsters or even successfully fighting monsters that could prepare me for the tasks ahead. In the Perrault version, Little Red is given some food and drink by her mother and takes them to her grandmother; she travels along the path through the woods. The wolf comes out to speak to her, but she is young and naïve and doesn't understand that wicked wolves can disguise their motives behind sweet words and pleasant manners and clothes. So she tells the wolf where she is going, and he runs through the woods and beats her to her grandmother's house. There he devours the grandmother, puts on her nightclothes, and waits in bed for the little girl. Little Red arrives at her grandmother's. When she enters the house, the wolf disguised as the grandmother tells her to put the food away and to take off her clothes and climb in bed with him. Little Red obeys, but she is alarmed by the changes she perceives in her grandmother's body and face. When she comments on his great eyes and sharp teeth, the wolf eats her up. The Perrault version is often accompanied by a moral that states,

Children, especially attractive, well bred young ladies, should never talk to

strangers, for if they should do so, they may well provide dinner for a wolf. I say

'wolf,' but there are various kinds of wolves. There are also those who are

charming, quiet, polite, unassuming, complacent, and sweet, who pursue young

women at home and in the streets. And unfortunately, it is these gentle wolves

who are the most dangerous ones of all.

Perrault's stories were written to entertain the French aristocracy of the late seventeenth century (1600s). They reflect Christian ideals of morality and appropriate gender behavior for elite girls/women and boys/men, even though those appropriate gender behaviors included a stark double-standard in terms of male sexuality. So to Perrault, it was perfectly natural for men to be predatory toward women, perhaps not literally in terms of eating them up but certainly metaphorically in terms of sex and ravishing them. The responsibility of policing sexuality falls not on the men but on the women. Little Red tells the wolf were she is going, and Little Red takes off her clothes and gets in bed with him. The lies and deceptions of the wolf are acceptable tools men use to fulfill their desires; women are supposed to know better and see through the lies, no matter how young and naïve they are. As guardians of morality, women are to resist their own sexual desires or resist even acknowledging that they had sexual desires, in addition to refusing to acknowledge or especially encourage the sexual desires of men. Since Little Red fails to see through the wolf's lies, takes off her clothes, and gets in bed with the him, she is unredeemable—dead and damned as a harlot.

My wolves disguised themselves in sweet and honeyed words, and I fooled myself most of all because I believed that they loved me and, therefore, would not do things to hurt me, but they have hurt me all along. I need a story where Little Red saves herself—and is not brutalized by the wolf or wolves, not saved by the huntsman (as in the Grimm brothers' version)—but is saved by herself. Suddenly, I was angry, so very angry. I loved them, both of them, I did. But the realization that they had and were brutalizing me made my instinct for escape and self-preservation the most dominant emotion in my mind and in my heart. What I felt for them was real, but what they had done to me and were willing to do to me, freed me from them. It was suddenly imperative that I got away, far away. I never wanted to see either of them again. The decision surprised me. Two days ago, I could never have imagined leaving them, particularly not Edward (who I had longed to spend the rest of my existence with), but now, what they wanted and what I wanted were so different. It was painful to see them as monsters, but that is what they were to me now. My decision was made.

I had been so wrapped up in love stories, my own and fictional, that I had failed to see another great trend in literature and history about the relationships between and women and men. In addition to aching romances, like those of Juliet and Romeo, Cathy and Heathcliff, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, there were stories of conflict between women and men and even abuse. Shakespeare's _Hamlet_ is mainly remembered for the emotional agony Hamlet endures in trying to uncover his father's murderer, his own uncle, but Ophelia is abused by the men closest to her. Her father, Polonius, uses Ophelia to further his own court ambitions. Hamlet, though intimate with Ophelia, refuses to bring her into his confidences, and poor, weak Ophelia, too naïve or stupid to understand the lies and games being played by Hamlet and at court, goes mad and drowns herself. I will not be Ophelia. I choose to walk away from the controlling men in my life who threaten to bury me underneath their lies, egos, pride, and love of conquest.

Edward's assault on my ability to choose for myself began early I realized. His unbearable beauty and grace were nothing beside what he could do with his assets (his eyes, his voice, his scent). I accused him of dazzling people, of dazzling me, and he had played innocent. But he knew the effect he had on people and used it flawlessly; he frequently made use of his honeyed voice and his smoldering eyes not just on me but on others, especially women, school staff, restaurant workers, my friends at school. At first he experimented with it, testing to see the extent of his powers to influence me The night after the Port Angeles' incident, Edward had breathed in my face before I got out of his car. It amused him to see how utterly helpless I was under its influence, his sweet breath. He staged choices for me that re-enforced the illusion of my choice in matters such as asking whether I would accept a ride to school with him the morning after Port Angeles or whether I would choose to spend the day alone with him the Saturday of the spring dance. But my choices were always undercut by the more dominant pattern of his manipulating me to get the outcomes he desired. He got me to agree to his driving home from our first date in the meadow. He got me to agree to ride on his back the second time—the time when he used his scent and his voice and his erotic kissing to make me forget my arguments and surrender completely to his will. He could make me forget my own name and give up almost any argument I could raise for pursuing my own choices like when he was distracting me from Alice's vision at school (of Victoria's return—which he kept hidden from me) or when he got me to agree to marry him.

The idea of early marriage repulsed me. My parents would both object; my friends would think it ridiculous and assume that I was pregnant. But more than my parents' or my friends' disapproval, I didn't want to get married now. I was too young. I hadn't figured out what I wanted to do in life yet. I wanted Edward forever, but was there nothing else? Once I was a vampire, there would be Edward and the Cullens and me, perpetually eighteen, was that not enough? Had I known all along? Had some part of me balked at the idea of pretending to be a high school and college student over and over again even with Edward at my side? Found it insufficient? I had wanted to choose marriage when I was older, established with my life and career. I had wanted to do something meaningful with my life—marriage could be included in that but it wasn't the only thing. But Edward found ways around my arguments both overtly and covertly. If I married him, he would let us try to make love which I wanted more than anything before I became a vampire. Though the compromise was spoken, my real surrender came under the power of his lips, his scent, and his kisses. He had once called it "tampering with my memory"—but it wasn't my memory; it was tampering with my will to want a course of action of my own design, a course of action he had not chosen for me. What kind of person does that to another? An abuser, a monster.

But Edward wasn't the only one who sought to impose his will on me. Jacob's designs for me were just as comprehensive and entrapping as Edward's. He just didn't have as much access to me as Edward had, though not for lack of trying. Though Jacob and I hadn't been truly romantically involved, that fact had not stopped him from fantasizing about me and obsessing over me. He had been willing to overpower me, to crush my body to him, to force me into his embrace, and to kiss me against my will, not just once but twice or three times if you counted being licked across the face by a werewolf. My resistance he ignored or didn't notice which was perhaps worse because he was so completely involved in his own pleasure that he had no empathy for my feelings whether pleasure or revulsion. What else he would he have liked to force me to do? I didn't like to think about. Nor did I like to think about the liberty he might have taken had he been in Edward's place, alone in my bedroom with my unconscious body. Jacob had been important in my life though I could see now that the relationship was dangerous and predatory. Of course, he had wanted so much more, but my attention and obsession had been more completely focused on Edward; Edward dominated the vast majority of my thoughts and interactions over the past eighteen months. Yes, I needed to break away from both of them; I needed to see them both as dangerous, but I was scared of Edward more; I had to deal with him and his behaviors and actions toward me in the greatest detail because proportionally our relationship was more intense and involved than that of my relationship with Jacob, but both of them were guilty of abusing me, of being monstrous.

What did I need to do now? I needed to talk to Charlie. I couldn't tell him all, but I could tell him enough. He could stand by me while I laid it out for both Edward and Jacob—perhaps even Deputy Mark could be there too. Then, Charlie would need to take me to the airport and put me on a plane to Jacksonville, to my mother. I would spend the summer with my mother and consider what I wanted to do about college. My previous college plans with Edward wouldn't work now. Besides, I thought that some time with my mother and some therapy would be good in reorienting myself to more healthy relationships—since I had spent the last year and half in what I now considered dangerous and abusive relationships. This was going to be awkward and hard.

I didn't realize it, but I was already home. Of course, there was so much on my mind that I just drove the way automatically without paying that much attention. Was this the right thing? Yes, I knew the right course was to free myself from them.

The last few days I experienced Edward and Jacob sinking to lower and lower methods of hurting each other and binding me closer to each of them despite what I wanted and asked them to do. Jacob had forcibly kissed me and then threatened to let himself be killed unless I asked him to kiss me again. Edward had manipulated me into agreeing to marry him and had informed Jacob that we were engaged before I was ready to tell him in a gentler fashion.

If I looked back further, I saw just more evidence of unhealthy relationships. How did I get around it? Edward wanted to kill me the first time he really smelled me. That first day, I nearly died twice. Then, he watched me sleep inside my bedroom, and he watched me for weeks before I knew he was watching. How creepy was that? He was in my bedroom with me when I was asleep without my permission—let alone the permission of my father. He followed me to Port Angeles. Yes, he saved me from sexual assault, rape, and possibly worse—but he was following me—again without my permission. He lied to me consistently throughout our relationship or he withheld information from me. He made decisions for me without taking into account my ideas and beliefs. He manipulated me. He had been controlling and domineering. He had demonstrated wild mood swings. Jacob once equated my relationship with Edward to a "controlling, abusive teenage relationship"; he was right and more.

But Jacob was no better than Edward. Jacob knew I was devastated after Edward left, but he was flattered and thrilled with my company and the challenge of the motorcycles (always the challenge). He formed a long range plan to "win" me and kept working on it. Time was the key. I tried to make it clear that my intensions with him were not romantic, but he was quick to blur the lines, to take what he could get. Again, my intensions and my boundaries were not respected; they would be manipulated to meet Jacob's desires, not mine. And I was so pathetic that I didn't have strength to push him away and stand by my boundaries as carefully as I would have if I had been whole. That was all part of the plan—slow and steady and persistent—inch by inch—laughing together, holding hands, putting his arm around me, and then kissing, and then? But Edward had come back—more accurately, I had gone to bring Edward back, before kissing Jacob. Jacob's plan was fundamentally hampered, thwarted, but Jacob used his happiness and his happiness' importance to me effectively in his fight against Edward, in their escalating battle. For them, the ends justified the means, Machiavelli would have been proud.

Why couldn't they get it? I didn't want to be a damsel in distress; I wanted to be a partner, and they were both so bent on keeping me helpless. Edward had promised to turn me into a vampire after I married him, but I had been hounding him for a year to make the change. I pleaded with him. I wanted to be with him forever. I wanted to be his partner—someone who was his equal, an ally/co-conspirator, but he was rigid in his desire for me to remain human as long as possible. I tried to understand his perspective, but I never truly felt that he tried to understand mine. He was always dismissive about my desire to give up my humanity. I was a legal adult, responsible for my own actions according to U.S. law; I could vote, join the military, and die for my country. I didn't require parental permission or supervision for my actions. But Edward refused to see me that way. Did he see my choices, my decisions, as flawed because I was human? Or was it because they were my choices or decisions and not his? He always knew the best and forced us to abide by his choices, whether they were better choices for us or not (like his decision to leave me after the disaster of my eighteenth birthday party which nearly killed us both). Clearly, my ideas/choices weren't always bad (stopping the Cullens from running from the FBI when James came after me and my epiphanies about the newborns and Victoria), but Edward usually saw things that concerned me through his vision of what was best for me—unless I or someone else made him see them in a different light—and even then he tried to manipulate the findings.

Jacob never considered me a partner at least not after he became a werewolf. I would always be his porcelain doll. As a human woman, he would protect me as the man-werewolf from the supernatural elements around me—vampires. But I could never be a werewolf because the magic blood did not run through my veins. We would always be fundamentally unequal, and it never bothered him; he never addressed it; he never saw it as something that would bother me. The most his vision contained was of me as the happy girlfriend/wife/mother of his children adoring her supernatural protector/boyfriend/husband/father of her children surrounded by our families and content with being protected. It didn't seem that he had learned anything from our actual time together when I wanted to be as much a part of the action as he was—whether it was riding motorcycles or jumping off cliffs. Jacob's option for me was even more constricting that Edward's. At least in Edward's, there was the possibility of becoming a true partner, but that was not a possibility in Jacob's vision.

I had to walk in the door and tell Charlie enough of the truth so that he would be angry at both of them, Edward and Jacob, and scared enough to send me to mom. Of course, the television was on, what else? Charlie was sitting on the couch totally absorbed in a baseball game.

"Bella? Is that you?" he said barely looking up, but when he did, he did a double-take.

"Yeah, it's me dad. How are you?" I answered back.

He had seen my face and paused. "Are you all right? You look terrible," with some anxiety in his voice.

"I need to talk to you, Dad; about a lot of pretty serious stuff—stuff I have not told you about before but should have. Can you turn off the TV?"

Charlie was suddenly alert and focused. He turned a couple shades of purple but tried to remain calm and turned off the TV without a word. He watched me closely as I sat down opposite him and braced myself for what I needed to say.

"Okay, I have been lying to you. Edward and I are much more serious that you know." I knew what conclusions he would draw from that statement, so I held up my hand and said, "Stop. We have not slept together." I wanted to make sure I could avoid another sex talk with him. "But I have thought of running away with him and leaving you to be with him forever or as long as I can have. I know that you have hoped that I would prefer Jacob to Edward, but I need to tell you that I have come to the conclusion that both of them are bad for me. I feel that both of them have hurt me, and I want you here to help me say good-bye to them, and then I need you to take me to the airport so I can fly to Jacksonville and be free of them. I love you, Dad. I am so sorry to leave you, but staying here will leave me vulnerable to both of them, and now that you are going to know what they have done to me, I don't think staying here is good for any of us. Perhaps we should also ask Deputy Mark to be here as well—just as a deterrent to rash action," I added.

"Bella, what are you talking about," my father asked, genuine alarm showing in his features.

"It gets really complicated, Dad," I tried to explain. "I guess what it comes down to is that I have lied to you a lot and kept other things hidden from you. You didn't necessarily ask or notice, and I didn't volunteer as much as I should have. Anyway it comes down to the fact that both Edward and Jacob have tried to force me to do things, things that I didn't want to do. Because I cared so much about them, I didn't see the force that they were using as wrong—as abusive. I made excuses for them. However, stuff this weekend made me see it differently, and I am frightened of them. I don't trust them to let me go, and I don't trust myself to be able to stay away from them if I remain here. I am sorry, Dad."

"What kind of lies, Bella? What has been going on?" he demanded his face a deep and unnatural shade of pomegranate.

"Okay, here's the thing, Dad. I need you with me when I talk to Edward and Jacob—and I need you to be calm and watchful, but you cannot be so angry with them that you attack them or try to lock them up. I am okay, and I am going to continue to be okay. I will tell you more of the specifics at the police station. I want to file paperwork that would call for some kind of restraining order on both Edward and Jacob."

My father's eyes widened and his posture became rigid. The idea of official police and court action in terms of Edward and Jacob because of what they have done to me threw the situation into a whole new arena for him. With his face livid, he nodded for me to continue.

"Why don't I give you a couple of examples, so you understand how serious I am," I suggested. I would have to edit the stories enough to focus on Edward and Jacob without distractions of the supernatural or other problems.

Again, struggling for control, my father nodded.

"Well, last year, remember when I went to Port Angeles with Jessica and Angela? Edward was there too. He followed me there. When I went to look for a bookstore, I ran in to him, and later he admitted to me that he had followed me," I said. "He was also watching me. He spent a lot of evenings watching me in my room, here, in our house. I didn't realize it at the time. Again, he told me later."

Charlie was angry; his face was a livid red color. "Bella, why didn't you tell me any of this?" Charlie demanded. "How long have you known?"

"I've known for a while, Dad. The thing is that I got caught up in it. I loved him, and he said that he loved me. From a certain point of view, it was just romantic and overprotective. Flattering in a sick way. I think some part of me realized that I should have been upset by his behavior, but I ignored that part. I didn't tell anyone," I said.

"Did Jessica or Angela see Edward following you? Did you tell any of your friends about Edward's behavior?" he asked.

"Jessica and Angela saw me after I ran into Edward, and no, I never told them that he had followed me; I've never told anyone about him watching me either," I added.

"Is there anything else?" he pressed.

"There are all kinds of things, Dad," I sighed. "Little things and bigger things. He lied to me and manipulated my behavior. He did it so often and so flawlessly that I felt helpless without his protection. Remember how I avoided the spring dance last year; that's normal behavior for me, Dad, and he forced me to go to the prom. He forced the Florida trip this year, as you may remember. He even got me to agree to marry him a few days ago," I whispered.

"Marry him?" Charlie's face flashed to such a deep shade of magenta that I thought he might be having a stroke.

"Yes, marry him," I said. "He was really good at getting me to do what he wanted, Dad. That's why I really need to leave."

Charlie was recovering from the shock of the ideas of me and matrimony in the same sentence. "What made you see things differently, Bella?"

Charlie needed to know enough but not all. It got so complicated—what to tell him about and what not to? Did he need to know what happened in Phoenix—I wasn't sure I could discuss that without explaining about vampires. What about Italy and the Volturi (again vampires were too big of a part of that story)? Victoria and the newborn army, could I tell him enough of that? He wasn't going to like what he heard. "Well, it was earlier today really.

"When you were shopping with Alice Cullen?" he asked raising one eyebrow and cocking his head to the side.

"Well, that's just the thing, Dad. I wasn't really shopping with Alice. We were all together. There were a lot of kids. The Cullens, kids from the reservation, Jacob included, and there were these other kids from Beaver, and at one point there was a brawl. The kids from Beaver left or disappeared, but there was an incident between Edward and Jacob, and they were fighting over me, not physically fighting, but arguing over me. And suddenly, I could see it—all the lies and deception, the manipulations they were scheming to achieve, and it made me sick. I realized what Edward had been doing, and from that point of view, it was wrong and twisted. Jacob wasn't as good at it as Edward, but Jacob had done as much as he could to force me to choose him, to control me into choosing him." Of course, there were no kids from Beaver, a local town—but that sounded better and more realistic than trying to explain about Victoria and her Seattle-based, newborn vampire army and the Cullens and the werewolves fighting against them.

Charlie was fighting to remain composed; he looked murderous. He tried to say something but wasn't able to get out anything coherent.

So I continued, "You know about Jacob and the motorcycles and the cliff diving. There were other things. He hurt me on occasion. I know that he didn't mean to—he didn't know his own strength, but he did. He threatened suicide to try to get me to do what he wanted. His tactics were more desperate than Edward's, but they have hurt me just as badly. Can you understand, Dad? I am scared. I don't think they will let me just break up with them. I need to be away from here. Will you help me?" I asked.

My father struggled for a while with the information that I had just shared with him. He forced himself to regain composure. Suddenly, he leaned forward and said, "Bella, I'll take you to the airport, and you can leave now. You don't need to see them again. I can tell them your decisions. I can put you on a plane to Florida, and you won't need to face them—to put yourself at risk any more," he said earnestly.

"It's tempting, Dad. But I think I really do need to see them, both of them, in person. If I don't tell them directly, they may misinterpret my intentions and actions. I think that it is much more likely that they would come after me if I don't explain very clearly how I feel now and that I do not want further contact with either of them," I explained. "Of course, they may ignore what I tell them and my wishes—they have both done so in the past—but telling them face-to-face coupled with restraining orders will make more public and more formal my requests to be left alone. If they violate the orders, charges can be pressed. That's where we want it, where I want it. Can you understand?" I asked.

"Yeah, I understand," he said with a sign. Charlie didn't look happy, but he looked resigned. He would help me get away.

After tidying some things in the kitchen, I excused myself and found the sanctuary of my room.

Rebellion

In my room, I walked to the window and pulled it firmly shut and locked it. I knew that it was only symbolic and that it wouldn't keep Edward out if he wanted to come in, but it reflected my new position.

Alone in my room, I sat down on the bed. I moved to the center and drew my legs up and hugged them tightly. As I glanced at my books, my eyes fell on two that I hadn't considered in a long time. Shortly before Edward was born, twin pillars of gender protest literature were published. In 1879, Henrik Ibsen published and had performed _A Doll's House_, and in 1899, Kate Chopin published _The Awakening_. In each of these works, the female protagonist realizes that societal expectations, of the happy, domestic woman and the caring, protective man, are shattered. In _A Doll's House_, poor Nora Helmer believed that her life was perfect. Her father had always sheltered her from the ways of the world, and her husband, Torvald Helmer, continued that tradition. Thus, Nora did not realize the awkward legal position in which she placed her family when she forged her father's signature a few days after his death to borrow some money so that she and Torvald could travel to Italy where Torvald needed to recover from a serious illness. She believed that her secret sacrifice, her borrowing the money and slowly and secretly paying it back, was a noble deed since it was all in the service of saving her husband. When Nils Krogstad, one of Torvald's employees at the bank, uses Nora's forgery not only to keep his job but to gain a promotion, effectively blackmailing Nora's husband, Torvald turns on his wife. He sees nothing noble in her actions. He berates her, questions her competency with their children, and agrees to retain their marital union for appearances only. Nora's friend, Kristine, helps smooth over the situation with Krogstad, and Krogstad withdraws the threat of blackmail. With the threat averted, Torvald is willing to forgive his wife and let things go back to normal, but Nora's world has been altered fundamentally. Torvald is not the man she thought he was. Suddenly, she sees him for who he is—a shallow, egocentric man who would turn on her and refuse to see her sacrifices and commitment. She leaves her wedding ring behind and goes to seek herself in the new world that has opened up in front of her.

Though I imaged that my life with Edward was perfect, I find myself, like Nora, shocked by my surroundings—by the men in my world who have failed me. My father, so completely self-absorbed in his work and his solitary lifestyle (between television sports and fishing), has rarely really paid attention to me. When I was nearly catatonic, he watched me cautiously and prompted changes in my behavior. But when I fell in love with Edward, when that relationship became obsessive and unhealthy, he failed to notice. He failed to notice too, the relationship that Jacob tried to force upon me. How interesting that for all my mother's failings that she would notice so quickly and from such limited contact the real nature of Edward's and my relationship. In the hospital after James, she saw it in only a few days. In Jacksonville, when Edward and I visited, she saw it more clearly and tried to talk to me about it—but I distracted her and put her off. A total of a week, six to seven days, and my mother could see what dad refused to see clearly for over a year and half. There was something seriously un-natural about our relationship. A great dad, I kept telling Charlie—because despite his presence, I was able to do anything I wanted. He was blind, but his blindness suited me because I didn't see the dangers in my relationships any more than he did.

Edward and Torvald seem different in ways, and yet they share painfully similar characteristics; they see their girlfriends/wives as unequal and childlike, and they do not value the opinions and commitments of their girlfriends/wives. Nora and I are charming and attractive when we are fragile and need to be taken care of, when we can be easily dismissed and treated like children, when we can be manipulated and have decisions made for us. When we stand up for ourselves, we become threatening and dangerous. When Edward left, I threw my unhealthy affections toward Jacob. When Edward returned, he refused to see the sacrifices and commitments I made to Jacob; Edward refused to let me honor those, so I fought him. Eventually, I won, but Edward's attitude toward my relationship with Jacob was always one of conceding something to a spoiled child complete with parental hand offs and custody rights. Edward had also told me that he found my silliness part of my charm, and suddenly all of Torvald's trivializing pet names for Nora flooded into my mind (his "sweet little skylark," his "little squirrel," his "little spendthrift," his "little songbird," his "helpless little mortal," his "little featherbrain"); I was silly and weak, and my ideas and desires were easily dismissed or ignored. Now with the blinders off, I can see that I have never been Edward's equal, his true partner, and I need to get out of this place, this male dominated environment. I need my mother; she will help me find myself, heal myself, so I can find my true place in the world.

Jacob and Torvald are much easier to see as similar. Their ideal maters, I and Nora, were helpless, unequal, objects of protection and devotion, but never partners or equals. Jacob's vision was always for me to be his doll, his unequal partner, his pretty plaything in a Barbie dreamhouse. I am Jacob's doll, to be protected, confined to the reservation or the werewolf territory for her own protection, championed from vampires and other threats, allowed to be human to sate his desires for me but not to fulfill my own. Nora rejected Torvald's vision just as I do Jacob's. Jacob, in this sense, is the easiest to walk away from because there is no possibility of ever becoming his equal, his partner, in his world.

_The Awakening _is different than _A Doll's House_, but it too attacks the idea of romantic bliss in the union between a woman and a man. In _The Awakening_, Edna Pontellier realizes that she is caged in the confines of her relationship, marriage, to her husband, Leonce. Like Nora, Edna has been transferred from one controlling man to another, her father to her husband. Leonce Pontellier is not a bad man, but he never sees his relationship to his wife as a true partnership where he has to allow her self-expression and autonomy. She is to fit his role of wife and mother, and whenever she steps out of those roles, he either castigates her or is politely indulgent. The relationship is suffocating to Edna, and though, at the end, she can envision leaving Leonce behind, she cannot escape the burden of her children; the societal expectations of motherly devotion to children are too great, too binding, for her. She is unable to walk away alive as Nora did, so she takes the only other option she can see to free herself; she drowns herself, another Ophelia.

Like Nora and Edna, I was never prepared by my father to see dominating male relationships or to defend myself against them. I feel just as trapped as Edna—trapped by the domination that Edward and Jacob would force upon me. Caged by the confines of their expectations and desires for me. The day before the baseball game with Edward's family, that brought me into the reach of James, Edward playfully caged me in his arms, and I refused to feel trapped in his arms, but I deluded myself. Again and again, Edward has manipulated my circumstances, hidden things from me, and controlled my life. He has been the very tyrant he once told me it was not in his nature to be. It has to stop. Before it kills me, I need to break free. I need to be on my own.

Castigating or politely indulgent until he can manipulate me into the course of action he prefers—those are Edward's consistent behaviors toward me. "Werewolves are dangerous, especially young werewolves," i.e., Jacob. So when I can't be stopped from seeing Jacob, I am allowed to see Jacob but with restrictions. "I will turn you into a vampire, but only if you marry me first." When I make my demand about having sex before being turned into a vampire, the answer is at first dismissive, then indulgent, and then all in the service of forcing me to marry him. I never get the upper hand. I feel like a puppet in the cable hands of the puppet master. It is more than the caged bird, Chopin's consistent metaphor for Edna in _The Awakening_; the caged bird is at least free to move and act on her own within the confines of her cage, but I am not. Edward pulls the invisible strings that guide my actions and lead me to the outcomes he desires. He claims he wants to preserve my soul, but what is a soul without free choice? I can't loose my soul, condemn my soul to hell, or save my soul and achieve salvation when I have no free will with which to choose, and Edward has taken my free will through his games and contrivances. Only away from him, can I choose my true path. He is truly "a very, very terrifying monster"—all the more terrifying for the smoothness of his assaults.

Again, Jacob is the easier read. He would be happy to have me in the bird cage. His snares are not as sophisticated as Edward's, as he has pointed out to me on several occasions. The pretty, helpless wife in her cage or Barbie dreamhouse would be fine with him. He would make it all the more alluring by throwing in children and Charlie and my mom, but the cage would be just as real and just as inescapable, and it would be reinforced by the pack, his werewolf brothers and Leah, who would watch out for me and keep me contained in the prison of Jacob's desires.

Jacob and I had joked about "eternal servitude" on Valentine's Day; he had offered me a cheap box of candy hearts, and I had been so oblivious to the date, I had nothing to offer him in return. In exchange for becoming his valentine, Jacob proposed that I become his slave for life. I blew it off as a joke and agreed even though he continued to make references to the status of the enslaved. But slavery is not a joking matter; the will and the body of the slave are owned and controlled by the whims of the master. Jacob came up with the images of slave and me enslaved. It made me uncomfortable. What exactly, if he could have made me do anything, would he have had me do? Jacob's image of me as his "porcelain doll" had been bad enough, but the slave image was more frightening—with dark associations to beatings, whippings, rape, and worse—things that masters did to their slaves—things that made slavery so repugnant that Americans abolished it. When Jacob offered me his servitude, I had rejected it, answering him that I did not want a slave; I wanted a friend, a comrade, a partner. Why hadn't I been more alarmed of his fantasy of me as his slave?

I had to think; I had to have time to think alone. I had to tell Edward to stay away. I went down stairs and hoping I wasn't giving too much away; I picked up the phone and dialed Edward's phone. He answered immediately, his voice sounded pained. What had Alice seen? What had she told him already? My breath caught in my throat. I hesitated. "Edward," I whispered, "I—I have some things to think about."

"Yes," he whispered back. "I know you do," his voice was thick and strained, like it cost him a great deal to say anything at all.

"I'd like to see you tomorrow, if that is okay?" I asked, my voice trembled, and I felt the tears welling in my eyes.

"If you like," was all he answered.

"I'll call you," I added lamely.

"Till then, my love," he murmured, and the line went dead; he was gone. It was all I could take. I ran to my room and shut the door. I flung myself across the bed and cried into my pillow. The pain was horrible, but every part of me knew that it had to be like this. I had to tell him good-bye, and I would also need to go back and tell Jacob good-bye. I had to leave. I had to get away from them.

Stages of Abuse

I had stopped to look at my relationships with Edward and Jacob from the perspective of them being unhealthy and unequal. But there was more. If I was honest, the relationships could be considered abusive—emotionally and psychologically abusive, certainly; physically abusive—I wasn't sure. If looked clinically, objectively, could I see them as abusive?

Alone in my room, with my confused and tangled thoughts, I dried my tears and started the computer. I waited as it warmed up, and waited some more for the Internet connection to connect me to the information I wanted: "abusive relationships," "psychological abuse," "psychological manipulation," "controlling relationships," "abuser profile," "victim profile," "battered women," "physical abuse," "stalking," "domestic violence," "intimate violence," "restraining order," "Protection from Abuse."

"Warden"—Jacob had used the term to emphasize how Edward controlled me. I had scoffed at the idea. But there were a range of abusive issues that separately might be dismissed but together these threads wound upon each other creating a thick cord that seemed more and more dangerous to me. Abusive strategies bound me to Edward and made me feel dependent on him and helpless without him. Jacob's strategies were not as all encompassing but they were still effective and threatening and just as binding.

I had thought of my need for Edward as an addiction, and Jacob had used such terms too; he thought I was addicted to Edward in an unnatural and unhealthy way. Edward had claimed that I was his addiction. But the whole metaphor of addiction took away free will, free choice. The addict craves his or her drug, blindly and irrationally. Physical need overrides any other considerations. My mind created elaborate mechanisms to shield me from the idea that Edward was bad for me. The idea of being addicted to Edward was one of the best of these because it took way my free will in the relationship, and it made me ignore the damage the relationship exacted (the lies, manipulation, distancing from friends and family).

What were the separate threads of Edward's control over me and how were they related to abuse? His impossible beauty and my ordinariness. The fairy-tale nature of our relationship and forbidden love. The lure and risk of loving a "bad boy," someone who was dangerous. His flawless acting skills and ability to lie to me and manipulate my behavior. His feigned vulnerability with me in particular. His obsessive behavior toward me. His traditional upbringing and my upbringing and its predisposition for my tendencies toward encouraging traditional gender roles of weak women and strong men. The way being around him cut me off from my other friends and from my family. The way I got hurt around him.

My Internet research told me much. A gross distillation of that information was that men who abused women had control issues. They often came from isolated, cold families, and they sought to isolate their partners from their friends and families so that they might have more control over their partners and make their partners feel helpless. They had strong senses of male superiority and traditional gender roles. They lacked social skills in some fundamental ways—making them dependent on their female partners and yet resentful of the dependence. Though they lacked social skills, they often appeared to function well outside the home and in public arenas. They were frequently moody, and their moods shifted unpredictably. The threat of violence underlined their interactions with their partners (emotionally as well as physically). Jealousy was an issue for such men because of their dependence on the women in their lives. Women were in the most danger when trying to escape from or put distance between such abusive partners. Stalking, in such situations, was one response; other men became physically violent.

Wow! How could I have missed the signs? I was so desperately in love with Edward—that I didn't, wouldn't, couldn't see. The achingly romantic aspects of our relationship always seemed to bury the evidence of it as wrong and un-natural. I had been so caught up in the idea of the supernatural relationship between a human and a vampire, I didn't consider the other aspects of it. It was too easy to dismiss the human warning signs because of the supernatural aspects of his world.

Edward controlled me; he manipulated my actions thoroughly. Were they conscious or unconscious, the things he did? Some of them must have been conscious, planned, and deliberate. Other things could have been unconscious. I don't know. I can't read minds, but I can't trust him to be honest. Over and over again Edward has demonstrated his ability to lie to me, so I will never know the extent of his designs. But I know that I can't believe what he tells me.

Edward was constantly at work to shape my decisions and actions. His manipulations made these things look like they were genuinely mine—but he was always there behind the scenes. He monitored me by listening to thoughts of my friends. He set me up so that Tyler could ask me to the dance after Mike and Eric already had. He lied to me about the reasons for his family leaving Forks. He manipulated me into fighting with Charlie and going to Florida to visit my mother. He tried to end my relationship with Jacob, and then he used my relationship with Jacob to manipulate my devotion toward him. And what were the other ways that I just hadn't identified yet?

Although everyone always pictures the best looking guy in school going out with the best looking girl in school, it doesn't always happen that way. Some guys use their looks or their age as strategic assets in their conquests of girls. The great looking boy asks out an okay looking girl in his class, and because she is so flattered and eager to be with him, she goes farther emotionally and sexually and gets in too deep with him than she would with another guy. The good-looking guy knows this and uses it to get what he wants. Age can also have a similar effect. A senior guy asks out a sophomore girl or a freshman girl, and she just gushes over getting the attention of an upper classmen so much so that she does things that she wouldn't with a boy her own age. The two of the girls who ended up pregnant at my high school in Phoenix were like that. Richie Thompson, the best looking boy in school, asked Sara Davis to his junior prom; she was quiet and shy and nice. We had Spanish together sophomore year. A couple months later, they broke up, and she was faced with either single-motherhood or an abortion. The other girl was a sophomore dating the senior football quarterback.

Although Edward resisted having our physical relationship go too far, his conquest of me was absolute. Vampires had supernatural beauty; Edward knew the way I regarded the disparities in our looks. He told me that I was the most beautiful thing in his world and would always be so, but he never explained to me how I could still be beautiful to him when I was old and he was perpetually seventeen. I think that he counted on his unnatural beauty to make me vulnerable, to keep me from noticing the disturbing aspects of his pursuit of me.

The fairy-tale nature of our relationship was another strand. A relationship between a mortal girl and an immortal vampire seemed an impossibility because most vampires would kill the girl. Also the exposure of the secret vampire world to humans was against vampire law and could result in punishment by the Volturi. Then, he wasn't just any vampire; he was a "vegetarian" vampire, and I wasn't just any mortal girl; I was "his singer" because my blood smelled more incredibly inviting and appealing than any other mortal's blood—even to his vegetarian palate.

There was also the achingly romantic speed of our obsessions for each other. We barely knew each other before he was declaring that he loved me more than I loved him. I entered school in January. There was that awkward first day when I didn't understand why he was reacting to me that way and where he fought not to kill me on school property, and then his absence for the rest of that week. Then, he started talking to me—but that was abruptly stopped after he saved me from the skidding van in the school parking lot. That was followed by six weeks of silence. The ice broke with the girls' choice dance when he started talking to me again. We sat together at lunch. Then he rescued me from sexual assault, rape, or worse in Port Angeles, and I told him that I knew he was a vampire and that I didn't care, and the next day he was insisting that he cared more for me than I did for him.

Three days later, alone in the meadow, he was again telling me that I was the most important thing in his life (that he loved me, although he waited until the following day to use those exact words). If you counted the days that we actually talked consecutively, could they have added up nine to ten days, maybe eleven, but not even two weeks? Less than two weeks, and it was barely five days between the night in Port Angeles and our outing in the meadow. And we were in love? It sounded crazy; it was crazy.

Obstacles were thrown at us: James, the vampire who hunted me, Jasper's reaction at my eighteenth birthday party when I cut my finger and Edward's decision remove himself from my life to ensure his family would never endanger me again, my friendship with Jacob and the werewolves, the return of Victoria (James' mate) and Laurent to hunt me, and Edward's attempt at suicide and my journey with Alice to save him. But then when we were reunited, I felt that he loved me, and I knew that I loved him.

Finally, it was agreed that I would join his family as an immortal—that we would become equals. We were putting it off until after the battle with Victoria's newborn army, and he attempted to get me put it off longer by insisting on marriage first. But it was always the impossible story of the mortal girl and the vampire boy—forbidden love, special love, love that could cross over the normal boundaries that would or should hold us apart—another strand in the cord.

His lying should have warned me. He was an obsessive liar. As a vampire, it was something he had to do to keep his world hidden from human eyes. Yet, he lied and manipulated me every chance he got. I know, or I think I know, that I got glimpses of the truth, his real feelings and his real motivations. But other things seem so far fetched to me now. My favorite books were _Romeo and Juliet_, _Pride and Prejudice_, and _Wuthering Heights_. But I was a bookish seventeen year old when I met Edward. What seventeen year old boy would read those kinds of books? Not Jacob certainly. I couldn't even imagine a seventeen year old boy in 1918 reading and obsessing over such books, especially if he thought of himself as a warrior or a soldier about to enter World War I. Edward had told me that that's how he considered himself—just like Henry Fleming in Stephen Crane's _The Red Badge of Courage_—he was eager for the battles, the imagined glory, the role of a soldier. If that was really the case, shouldn't _The Iliad_ and _The Odyssey_, _The Aeneid_, _Le Morte d'Arhtur_, the Leatherstocking Tales, Tolstoy's _War and Peace_, or even Crane's _The Red Badge of Courage _ have been more appealing and have more power over his imagination than my favorite love stories? Of course, as a perpetual high school and college student, Edward would be only too familiar with classic high school texts like _Romeo and Juliet_, but even so. He memorized the books that I liked and quoted them to me—again the achingly romantic clouded fact that he was manipulating me, lying to me, positioning me for the next move—binding me to my course through the allusion of free will, my choosing him, instead of the reality, his closing off my options.

His achingly romantic appeal was furthered by his claims that he had been waiting a century for me, and only me—that this was first love for him as well as for me and that he too was a virgin so that when we finally did make love, it would be the first time for both of us. What girl wouldn't be rendered utterly helpless by such claims? Edward was too romantically perfect to be real; he was a creation, a fiction, a story too good to be true which made him all the more difficult to be extricated from.

He was controlling in other ways. He insisted on driving me home after I nearly fainted in biology during blood typing after he arranged our early dismissal from school. He threatened to drag me across the parking lot if I tried to get to my own truck. He insisted I have food and drink after the incident in Port Angeles, despite my protests. He insisted on driving after our day in the meadow. He insisted on taking me to the prom despite the fact that I never would have gone to it on my own—and he didn't even tell me where we were going until I figured it out by myself. Mystery date—and we end up at the prom! Why didn't I see something wrong with being taken out "blind" without knowing the destination of the date? Even when I was allowed to see Jacob, Edward reduced me to infantile dependence by insisting on driving me to the drop-off/pick-up point and leaving me with a cell phone. Then there was his manic mission to get me into a good college with the never ending stream of college applications—on half of which he forged my signature. A college he would also be attending, so that we would be together, and I would have no opportunity to unbind myself from him. He thwarted my agency over my own actions again and again. He had to control me just as abusive men control their victims.

Another part of the lure, another stand in the cord, was his vulnerability. Only I was immune to his power of mind reading. No other person posed the challenges and frustrations of my closed mind. He never stopped telling me how painful it was for him not be able to hear my thoughts, to know what I was thinking. It gave me the allusion of having a power over him—yet since most minds are closed to the people around them except when they honestly and freely share those thoughts, what really was this power? If he had been able to read my thoughts like he could everyone else's, I would have been dirt beneath his feet. He could have completely controlled me—not that he didn't very nearly already do that through the ways he entrapped, manipulated, and bound me—but if he could have seen into my head as well, there would be no hope for me; there would be no chance to break free. When we first explored our relationship, he emphasized his vulnerability again to suggest that he didn't know how to be close to me—that he didn't know how to intimately human with me—unsure, insecure, virgin—vulnerability again.

But he was always good—perversely both good at sexually arousing me and at keeping us from "going too far" sexually. He could make me forget my name under the power of his touch or his kisses. He made me feel like I would spontaneously combust from the passion that I felt and that he held me off from consummating. It was maddening. Too much was dangerous, so he said. He always dictated our terms, our contact. I was never in control, never offered the responsibility, never responsible for the consequences. He even brought the argument down to the idea of his soul and my soul and damnation. My willingness to have sex before marriage—for us to lose our virginity – affecting not just my soul but his—the vulnerability of his soul (saved or damned) in my power too. He was such a cheater.

The way he obsessed about me was another characteristic of an abuser. I found his attention flattering at the time. I didn't see it as another way to know everything about me so that that knowledge could be used to control or manipulate me, but I could see it now. After the Port Angeles incident, he spent days questioning me about every minute detail of my life. I thought it was weird at the time, but I was so distracted by his total absorption in my answers and his unbelievable beauty that I didn't think about it clearly. By providing him with so much detail about my life and the people I knew, even the books I liked best, I gave him tools to manipulate me, tools he used. Not only did he ask about every aspect of my life in Washington and in Phoenix, he listened to the conversations I had with my friends so that he could try to figure out what I was thinking, he stalked me, he watched me at night and was in my room while I slept, he followed me, he had his sister kidnap me to keep me from my werewolf friend, Jacob. He had his sister monitor my movements and future, and he insisted that I marry him before becoming immortal, even though I was eighteen and marriage was not something I was interested in doing or wanting so young.

His secret vampire world masked the fact that my relationship with him isolated me from other people, my mother, my father, my human friends—a tactic of abusers so they can more completely control their victims and keep others from interfering. He and his family became the center of my universe, and that universe pulled me away of my network of family and friends who might comment on Edward's controlling ways and his manipulation of me. Jacob had warned me over and over again that Edward was controlling, but I wouldn't see it. And Edward's family was isolated, isolated from the human world around them, constantly moving on when their never changing natures threatened to reveal them. Though they were physically cold, they were so emotionally bonded to each other and then to me that I wouldn't see the danger in giving up my relationships with my mother and friends. And I furthered the isolation on my part. Though when I first met Edward I didn't like to lie to people and wasn't good at it, I slowly got better at it, as I lied or withheld information about Edward and me to my father, my mother, and my human friends.

Two other important traits of abusive relationships were related: Edward's notions about love and marriage (tied to his traditional upbringing) and my own upbringing. In 1918, he was a product of Victorian values with their idealized views of women as weak and vulnerable; creatures that needed protection and shelter from the harsh realities of the outside world. And I fulfilled that role. I was clumsy and accident prone. I cried too easily. I had cared for my mother all my life, and I fulfilled traditional housekeeping functions for my father. I read with horror that my own upbringing as the caregiver, the nurturer, as the daughter of divorced parents (who didn't see the normal give and take between a wife and a husband), the child of a cop (a man in the traditional role of protecting women and society) and a kindergarten teacher (a woman in traditionally female occupation and role of instructing young children), only made me more vulnerable to an abusive partner. It would be in my nature to want to help Edward, to care for him, even if he was mean to me. I would want to give him another chance, I would want to help cure him. I would minimize his dominating behavior and then emphasize all his startlingly sweet behavior. The unpredictability of his moods would encourage me to react to such behavior with "learned helplessness"—I didn't feel able or empowered to stop the mood changes or his manipulation of me. The two, his upbringing and mine, added to the cord that bound me to him.

From the very start, I sought to ease or stop Edward's and Jacob's pain and discomfort—even putting myself at risk or danger to do so. It was my instinctual reaction. With Edward, it happened at once. Every time anguish crept into his eyes or voice, I sought to overt it. That day before our first trip to the meadow, I lied to everyone I had told about going out with Edward and kept the information from my father, to keep him safe, not myself. It was the same with Jacob. When I saw his face in pain, it became my mission to see his anguished look disappear and to see him smile again. I always put the happiness of others before myself. I had moved to Forks so my mother would be happy with her new husband. When I was devastated after Edward and the Cullens left Forks, I made the effort to return to my normal school and work routines to make Charlie happy, to ease his concern and guilt. Did I ever put myself first? I would have to work on that.

A lack of social skills characterize abusers. At first, that seemed ridiculous when I thought of Edward. He was so good at manipulating, "dazzling," people because of his immortality and his special gifts. But when I considered it differently, none of the Cullens fit in at school; they stood apart—as a girlfriend pointed out to me on the first day of school in Forks. When Edward had first confided in me about his special gift, reading minds, he had also commented on the problem that gift presented when he was attempting to be normal. No, the Cullens didn't fit in—though they tried to blend and pass for human—and I was the human who would disconnect from my world and enter theirs though it left me isolated and dependent on a man who constantly sought to shape my future into what he felt was best for me, taking my agency away from me.

I had internalized Edward's abusive behavior so much that I couldn't live without it. When he left me, trying, as he later explained, to protect me from his family and himself, I found a way to fabricate the abuse. I couldn't just be separated from him and be better off. Of course, I filled part of that lack of abuse by entering more deeply into a relationship with Jacob, but I also found ways to hurt myself, so I could imagine him in my mind, yelling at me, being angry with me, threatening me. It was psycho—truly deranged. I tried to recreate the scene of my near sexual assault in Port Angeles from which Edward had saved me. I drove and crashed a motorcycle several times. I jumped off a cliff and into water so rough I nearly drowned. These were the things that I had done intentionally to put myself in danger to hear his abusive voice in my head, but there were other moments of danger too, that came at me without my conscious design. Times when I provoked Jacob so much that he nearly transformed in front of me and the time Laurent found me in the meadow and nearly killed me before the werewolves hunted him down and tore him to pieces.

Another part of the attraction, the lure, was Edward's bad boy status. He told me he was dangerous to me. Being alone with him put me in physical jeopardy. The smell of my blood could overpower him, and he could kill me. In the beginning, when the threat was very real, his longing for my blood and yet his refusal to hurt me were strangely seductive, hypnotic even. The threat of violence coupled with a passion to love me and keep me alive made me feel special, unique in a twisted sort of way. What I should have seen was danger! From his violent mood swings to his displays of anger or aggressive behavior to his demonstrations of his physical strength and ability compared to a regular human, he threatened violence. It was strangely romantic to think that he warred with himself to be with me, to protect me and not to hurt me. The misunderstood bad boy—vulnerable, kind beneath the surface, tormented. James Dean's character in _Rebel without a Cause_ but with way more to suffer over than self-absorbed 1950s suburban parents who couldn't be bothered with their human teenaged son and his problems. It probably didn't hurt Edward's appeal any either that my father was so stubbornly determined to dislike him. Natural teenaged rebelliousness meant that dad's disapproval made him instantly more appealing. The bad boy who struggled to be good. It wound around the other threads.

His mood swings should have made more of an impact on me—because they gave me emotional whiplash. They hinted at physical violence boiling beneath the surface—aching for release through physical action, physical abuse. They stood out so clearly. Even Aro had mentioned that Edward was so angry when we saw him in Volterra. So much Edward kept bottled up and hidden from me. The Cullens didn't keep secrets between themselves because they couldn't (mind reading, fortune telling, and their acute vampire senses made lying impossible or very difficult). But Edward always kept things from me. He kept Alice's vision of my becoming a vampire from me and the knowledge of vampire transformation. He kept other secrets from me. He flew me to Florida rather than tell me about Victoria coming to Forks. Though I rarely kept anything from him, he chose to withhold information from me regularly or to lie to me, both to control me.

Aside from the threat of violence inherent in his being a vampire and me being a mortal or the violence he used or threatened to use to defend me from rapists, James, the Volturi, werewolves, and Victoria and her newborn vampire army, there was the violence of his very nature, hunting and feeding on live prey. Even though the Cullens satiated themselves with animals, those animals were hunted down and drained of blood in very immediate and physical terms—the chase for prey, the physical contact, teeth ripping into neck flesh and tendons to reach the blood supply, the sensations of the dying animal. Yes, the Cullens feed off animals, not people, but hunting as vampires was just more physically violent and brutal than humans using weapons to hunt animals (even primitive weapons). What aspect of Edward didn't hint at a violent nature, I wondered, and how did that affect me? It seemed to bind me to him. I was like a hostage suffering from "Stockholm Syndrome." Edward's perpetual saving me from people who threatened me (most of whom I had to admit, I came into contact with only because I had a relationship with him) made me feel dependent on him. His personally violent nature (his eating habits, his mood swings, his desire for my blood, his anger, his actions fighting for me)—I justified all that because I needed him, felt addicted to him. I couldn't envision myself as able enough or powerful enough to survive without him. I forced myself to see safety and love and security with Edward because my mind wouldn't let me deal with the obvious; Edward was dangerous and abusive, and I should free myself from him.

What could I say, even Edward's face drawn up in his beautiful smile was a threat—as his marble lips revealed his venomous teeth, the ultimate vampire weapons. Every kiss around or near those teeth was flavored with the not so subtle menace of what they could do and had done to countless animal prey, to human victims (during Edward's rebellious phase), and to other vampires. As if the teeth themselves were not hazardous enough, there was the way that Edward kissed me—the way his lips always found my throat, the underside of my chin and jawbone, the base of my neck, the join between my neck and shoulders, my collarbone. We both seemed to thrill to that all too suggestive contact—his lips, his teeth at my most defenseless spots in my most defenseless position, my arms around him and his arms wrapped around me with my neck exposed and inclined toward him. It was erotic not just because of the way it felt and the ache and longing that made both of us want to go further than just kissing; it was erotic because it hinted at death and orgasmic relief that the last barrier of life offered to me, a human, and to him, a vampire, as he got to sate his thirst for my blood.

Though I knew I didn't want to think of them this way, the Cullens as family were threatening. Edward was one of a very powerful and large family of vampires; seven in his immediate family and five more if you included his extended family in Alaska (Tanya's family). The Cullens had protected me and loved me—but they were threatening in just the same way as Jacob's pack was. Each of them, Edward and Jacob, stood with a loyal, devoted family behind him, a family willing to fight, willing to kill, willing to die to defend its members. I was the outsider, the human. Then there was the fact that Jacob's great-grandfather and the other tribe elders had felt the threat of the Cullens was so real that they forged the original treaty between the tribe and the Cullens and tried to minimize vampire/werewolf contact as much as possible so violence wouldn't erupt.

In terms of abuse, one of the most obvious things Edward did was the stalking. Six weeks after I met Edward, he was in my bedroom while I slept without my permission or my father's, listening to me, watching me—did he touch me too? What else did he do in my room all night long as he watched me while I thrashed in my sleep, covering and uncovering myself with my blankets? Would he, could he have masturbated over my unconscious body? (Maybe that was why he could display such physical restraint when our kissing threatened to escalate into so much more.)

Edward told me later that his motivation for watching me sleep was his jealousy and frustration over the invitations I had received from three of my male classmates for the spring dance and the rejections I had given them. He told me that he was thrilled when I said his name that night and that at that moment he had committed himself to trying to be with me. He smoothed over the trespassing and spying on me by telling me that if he could dream, he would dream about me. It was so heartbreakingly romantic—that I refused to see the sick, twisted nature of his actions. He was in my room without my permission when I was unconscious not just once but for weeks afterward, night after night. A version of Sleeping Beauty flashed through my mind. My mother had found an old Italian version of the story where the princess didn't wake with the prince's kiss, and the prince didn't stop with a mere kiss. He had obsessed over the unconscious body of the princess to the point of having sex with her. It was a disturbing image, and I realized with a jolt that the only fairy tale character Edward had ever referenced in terms of me and our relationship was Sleeping Beauty. Was that a coincidence or a Freudian slip? Edward alone with me and my unconscious body, I could only imagine what my father would think of that.

Stalking me in my room, wasn't all he did. There was the following me to Port Angeles. Of course, he saved me from sexual assault or worse, but there was still the fact that he followed me, shadowed my movements without my knowledge and again without my permission. If he hadn't saved me from those men, it would have been super creepy that he had secretly followed me. And I couldn't forget the nearly silent menace of suddenly finding Edmund's silver car inches from my truck's bumper the first day I successfully escaped to the reservation to see Jacob against Edward's prohibition from werewolf contact. He stalked me in his car all the way to Angela's house. The threat of the car so close to mine was bad enough, but I couldn't bring myself to look at his face because I knew the rage and fury in his face would be worse than the menace of the following car.

Abusive men were often irrationally jealous, and Edward was jealous; he confessed it to me. He was jealous of Mike Newton and of Jacob. He had been jealous of Mike, Eric, and Tyler asking me to the spring dance. His jealousy drove him that night to break into my bedroom to watch me sleep. It drove him to thwart Mike's attempt to take me to the nurse when I felt faint in biology. And what was it that nearly drove him to murder my would-be assailants in Port Angeles? Was it jealousy or an insane over-protectiveness? It wasn't normal; it was sick, but at the time, I had seen it as oddly chivalrous, the knight battling enemies for his lady fair and her honor. The ideas of vigilante justice and murder hadn't really bothered me as much as they should have.

What was it about boys and men? Edward had called Mike Newton my "boyfriend," and he had referred to my would-be rapists in Port Angeles as "my other friends." I had heard other boys make similar references. In reflection, it seemed to be more than just sarcasm and poor taste in teasing. It was a projection of jealousy. Edward was jealous of Mike. Though he knew that I had no feelings for Mike in that way, he couldn't resist equating Mike as my boyfriend. Was it so he could hear my denial or because, as usual, he ignored me and what I said and saw Mike as a rival anyway? More unsettling was the idea of my sexual assailants in Port Angeles as friends. They clearly weren't my friends, but what was the relationship that they had with me or wanted to have with me that Edward found so alluring, so equivalent to his own desires—that he would see them as rivals in the same way that he saw Mike? Did Edward have violent sexual fantasies about me or just sexual fantasies about me? The later I could handle, but the former made me cringe.

Later, Edward was insanely jealous and controlling about my contact with Jacob. At first, he refused to trust my judgment about Jacob. He went to extreme measures to keep me away from Jacob (kidnapping, bribery, coercion). Even after he eased up about Jacob and the werewolves, he had to make an effort to hide his jealousy from me, and he wasn't always successful. But the jealousy seemed to thrill him. In hind sight, I wonder if I should have seen that jealousy was more enthralling to him than our love. It certainly was the motivation behind his battle over me with Jacob where no tactic was too ruthless. That first night in my bedroom when I actually knew he was there, when I had remarked about how happy he seemed, he had started to talk about first love and how powerful such a thing was to experience rather than reading about it or seeing it portrayed, but that conversation was brief and followed by a much longer and intense description of his feelings of jealousy toward me and someone like Mike, someone besides himself. The emphasis on jealousy instead of new love should have flashed warning more clearly.

There was also the dark knowledge that the Cullens had acted in ways that attracted police and FBI attention and yet escaped capture and/or punishment. Their family had been on the run from the law; they had broken laws, stolen cars, forged documents, and assumed new identities. I didn't know the specifics of what had driven them to run from the law, but when James was hunting me, last year, Edward had made it plain that his family had experience running from the FBI. Perhaps the addition of one of their family members had been the impetus. It must have been awkward for someone like Rosalie to just disappear. Even with the most noble of reasons, the fact was that the Cullens broke laws and were in contact with a criminal underworld which at the very least provided them with false identities and forged documents, and that knowledge was threatening in its own way—especially to the daughter of a cop.

Jacob pursued me as obsessively as Edward did, and he used abusive tactics just as freely as Edward. For both of them, the competition over me became more interesting than the feelings they may have or may not have felt for me. It was just like with James, the challenge of the quest became more interesting than the object of the quest. They goaded each other. Edward polluted my hair with his scent before leaving me alone with Jacob. At handoffs where I was traded between territories like a child, Edward kissed me more passionately than was necessary in front of Jacob with the express purpose of annoying Jacob, and Jacob responded by crushing me in overly zealous hugs before Edward could drive away. Jacob took liberties in both his forms (human and wolf), the first night of practice before meeting the newborn army, Jacob, in wolf form, took obvious pleasure in Edward's appalled reaction to the wolf licking my face.

Jacob too was abusive. At first, he was just Jacob, the boy I had seen on summer vacations to visit my dad, only older, but innocent and happy and open, and yet I was strangely obligated to him which he used deftly to his advantage as often as he could. It was through Jacob that I first realized Edward was a vampire. When the Cullens left, and I crashed into myself, it was Jacob who I turned to with my crazy motorcycle scheme. Despite stitches to the head and a concussion, Jacob never discouraged me from riding the motorcycle or encouraged me to get more protective gear (like a helmet or a jacket).

Jacob repeatedly used my friendship with him to manipulate me into a deeper relationship though I fought him as well as I could. He took any opportunity he could to force himself on me. He did it at the disastrous horror movie that we went to with Mike Newton. He did it at his house, when he told me that he loved me and forcibly kissed me. He did it before the battle with Victoria and her newborns when he threatened to "allow" himself to die so that I would ask him to kiss me. Through the threat of suicide, he forced my hand. He knew I would do anything to avert his pain—so obsessed and under his power as I was. My rational, objective choice would never have been to kiss him—especially after I had just agreed to marry Edward, but he manipulated me skillfully. I would betray myself, betray Edward, to try to save Jacob, and I did, and then I hated and abused myself for it afterward. What should have given it away was the way Edward saw it—as strategy, tactics—"Jacob's more cunning than I gave him credit for." I wondered if it was ever about me at all? There was more scheming and planning that Jacob never was able to put into action because I picked Edward over Jacob, but he hinted at his game plan to Edward in the tent on the night before the battle with Victoria. Manipulation and deception—things kept hidden to get me to do what he wanted me to do, to control me, to make me his—not of my own free will but of his design: his "game plan."

As Jacob's transformation into a werewolf got closer and closer, he changed, and he showed the threatening characteristics of an abuser. He grew and developed at an astonishing rate. He was over six feet tall before I knew him for six month. Physically, he towered over me. His involvement with the pack made Jacob dark and brooding; it was like his anger or rage would break through, and part of him was angry at me—angry at my choice to care for Edward and the Cullens. He spoke of them violently, calling them disparaging names, insulting them any chance he got. Jacob lumped the Cullens in with all vampires—all were to be hated and destroyed. So Jacob's very nature, as a werewolf, as a predator of vampires, meant that he was as seeped in violence as Edward. He told me that the werewolves only existed to protect their people from vampires by fighting and destroying them. Though werewolves killing Laurent and helping to kill Victoria and her newborn army had certainly been to my benefit, Jacob was not subtle in reminding me that he would also take pleasure in killing some of the Cullens, Edward in particular. The threat of violence, why did it have such appeal? Jacob had saved me from my personal abyss (after the Cullens left) and from Laurent. A girl in such perpetual need of rescue shouldn't try to stand on her own. She needed to be taken care of, told what to do, controlled—for her own good. I fell into the traps, the bindings, too easily. I couldn't envision myself as powerful on my own—learned helplessness again. I didn't have agency over my own actions with Jacob either.

There was more violence behind Jacob's identity as a werewolf than just his existence being predicated on killing vampires (both the bad and the good). There was also the unstable nature of being a werewolf—the way they lost control when they changed and how easily they could turn savage. I had seen it myself when Paul and Jacob fought. There was also the fact that because Jacob had magic blood on both sides of his family (through his mother's grandfather and his father's grandfather), he was a "better" werewolf than most of the rest of the pack, better than all except perhaps Sam, better at transforming and fighting, better at violence. I had seen the evidence of what werewolves could do even to those they loved most through the disfiguring scars that ran down the right side of Emily Young's face, a gift Sam could never take back. I came to understand the danger to myself whenever Jacob lost control of his emotions and began to shake and vibrate next to me; this happened more often than I would like to remember—but I couldn't make myself stay away, run away, get away. I was trapped, helplessly dependent.

Although the werewolves mostly ate as human beings, they also could and did eat as wolves. The knowledge of that reality of stalking prey, chasing it, bringing it down by mauling its throat, tearing it to pieces to eat it raw, was disturbing. Another not so subtle reminder that Jacob was dangerous, violent—in ways more similar to Edward than Jacob would want me to consider.

Then there was the fact that Jacob didn't understand his own strength. I guess that he had developed so fast that he didn't have a good gauge of it. Edward had the advantage of having been a vampire for eighty years to understand his strength and to learn how to control it, to appear more normal, more human. Though Jacob could be so perceptive about me, my emotions, so careful to avoid mentioning the things that caused me pain (like when the Cullens were gone and I couldn't bear to hear their name mentioned or Edward's), he seemed oblivious to his physical strength compared to mine. Jacob didn't understand that he hurt me physically, but that doesn't change the reality that he hurt me. I should have seen it, objected to it, stopped the contact, but I didn't. Frequently, when he hugged me, he crushed me so tightly to his chest that I couldn't breathe, and I had to cry out for him to stop. Both times he kissed me (the first without my permission), when I fought against him—he didn't realize I was fighting at all. Both times, he interpreted my attempts to hurt him, to get him off of me, as my passionate reaction to his kisses. He had kissed me as a wolf too, before the newborn battle, licking my face (again without my permission) and jumping out of the way to try and avoid my striking hand, my automatic response to his violation of my personal space and person. There was more too, hidden beneath the surface. I guessed that Jacob would have been willing to totally disregard my will if he thought what I had chosen would hurt me. He would act in my best interests, of course, but he would ignore my agency over my own life, my right to self-determination.

And Jacob lied to me too. Of course, being a werewolf there were secrets that Jacob couldn't tell me because Sam had commanded him not to, but there were other things that he lied to me about or kept from me. Though he promised to sell my motorcycle after he betrayed me to my father, he stubbornly refused to—hoping to use it as one more lure for me to spend time with him. Then there was the motorcycle betrayal itself. He promised never to tell Charlie, but he went back on that in an effort to keep me from Edward, another ploy, another deception. He didn't tell me he was second in command in the pack. He hid from me his elaborate, long-range plans to turn me from his friend to his girlfriend.

Jacob didn't stalk me with the same obsessiveness as Edward. He wasn't in my bedroom at night while I slept, but he told me right after he began transforming into a werewolf that he had come at night and run circles around my house while I slept. He watched over me—again without my permission and without Charlie's.

Jacob was also just as jealous of me if not more so than Edward. That night in the tent before the battle with Victoria and the newborns, he mentioned his jealousy repeatedly to Edward. But I knew before hand that the jealousy and anger ran deep. At times when we were alone, Jacob would ask me how it was possible for me to be attracted to Edward. He was relentless in reminding me that he was human and Edward was not. It both pained and angered him that I continued to pick Edward over himself—but the anger and jealousy were all too clear and threatening when they brought him to convulsions and nearly transformed him into a werewolf in front of me. The outcome of Jacob as a suddenly angry and transformed werewolf and my frail human body as a nearly defenseless target was a terrifying image, and a real possibility on several occasions.

The slave image that Jacob imagined for me was disturbing, but another image was also troubling. In Jacob's last attempt to manipulate me after the battle with the newborns, he had made a Biblical reference to King Solomon and his judgment about the women fighting over the baby. Each woman claimed the child as her own. In an effort to find out which was the true mother, Solomon threatened to cut the child in half and give half to each woman. The false mother was satisfied with Solomon's solution, but the true mother was horrified and renounced her claim on the child to spare its life. Through her willingness to give up the child, Solomon was able to return the child to its true mother. Jacob had described his actions toward me as like those of Solomon threatening to cut the child in half—disfiguring and murdering the child. It was an image of extreme violence—a grown man with a sword slicing a living, defenseless child in half—mutilating and destroying it to satisfy the competing claims on it. Though Jacob said he would give me up (just as the true mother had given her child up to spare it), wasn't it problematic to envision me in terms of the baby in the first place? Was he really willing to mutilate me or worse in his efforts to gain possession of me? I was the defenseless human in the contest between Edward and Jacob. My emotional or psychological abuse was just collateral damage in the contest. Jacob had been willing to risk my physical abuse as well. After he threatened suicide to make me kiss him (knowing that I was engaged to Edward and thus assuming that Edward would be enraged that his fiancée had been kissing another man), he had left me to face Edward alone hoping that Edward would only verbally and not physically abuse me, though he wasn't sure.

Then, there was the fact that I got physically injured when I was around both Edward and Jacob. I had gotten my head cut, ribs broken, hand bitten, leg broken, and most of my body bruised as a result of being exposed to James, the vampire, on my first official date with Edward. I had my arm cut open on a stack of glass plates and Jasper trying to rip my throat out on my eighteenth birthday at the Cullens' house. I had been threatened by the Volturi that I needed to become a vampire or die. I nearly got attacked by Laurent, and I was hunted by Victoria and her newborn vampire army—and all that was in addition to Edward fighting his desire to drink my blood and kill me himself. Being with Jacob wasn't much better. As a young werewolf, he put me in danger of his loosing control of himself and hurting me before he realized what he was doing repeatedly. Before that with the motorcycles, I sustained at least two head injuries that sent me to the hospital, and later, he was there as well for the Laurent, Victoria, and the newborn army. In fact, in a year and a half if I had landed in the same hospital for all my injuries (broken leg, broken ribs, cuts requiring stitches—twice to my head, once to my hand, and once to my arm, a concussion, and broken fissures in my hand) would someone have said something? Five trips to the ER in eighteen months (not counting the first trip when Tyler's van failed to crush me to death, the doctor's care I was under after the Cullens left Forks, or when I probably should have gone after cliff diving and nearly drowning). Five trips is kind of a lot for a bookish, non-athletic girl. It's a lot for any seventeen-eighteen year old girl.

How many times had they overpowered me, their supernatural strength dictating my actions? Edward's arms or hands had restrained me or pushed me away against my will more times than I could count. In his iron grasp, I knew I could not do other than what he allowed me to, so I almost always surrendered to his will. I even conceptualized Edward's grasp, his hold on me, in images of imprisonment and bondage ("iron chains" and "cages", "manacles," "fetters"). Jacob didn't have as many opportunities to overpower me as Edward, but his arms and hands had held me just as powerless as I tried to walk away from him or when he forced himself on me. It wasn't the same as physically hurting me, striking or hitting me, but in a profound way, the knowledge that I was physically powerless against them, against their strength, made me feel helpless, without agency of my own to resist them.

For a lot of battered women, whether physically or psychologically battered, the first incident of abuse is enough to get them to take action and get away from the abuser. I should have walked away from Edward in Port Angeles when I knew he had stalked me. I should have run from him when he told me about staying in my room through the nights. I should have told Charlie; I should have gone home to my mother in Jacksonville. The stalking combined with the mood swings and the subtle manipulations should have told me. Now, here it was over a year later, and my trigger was the manipulations of not just Edward but of Jacob too—their bet—their game for possession of the helpless human girl.

How was I going get away from them? Would they let me go? Edward told me again and again that he would rather I choose to be away from him—that he would let me go. Would he? Could he? What about Jacob? Jacob had never said that he would let me go? He threatened to always be waiting for me—a different kind of stalking.

Two cords threatened to strangle me or bind me, Edward's and Jacob's. Each was powerful and carefully designed. The trick was finding a knife strong enough to sever them. Freeing myself from the webs they had snared me in. I could cut the cords and run; I would cut the cords and run. My new perspective was my weapon. They had abused me, but I could and would free myself.

I turned off the computer, and I got ready for bed unwillingly—not knowing if I would be able to sleep with all the emotions and anguish I felt. Suddenly, I felt completely drained, and I crawled into bed. I had been attacked by vampires and championed by people I loved; it was hard to believe that all that had happened this morning. The most painful and disturbing part of the day had been the last several hours—of forcing myself to re-evaluate my relationships with Edward and Jacob and of realizing that I had to leave them and never see them again. I was so staggeringly numb and tired that I didn't even realize it when I sunk into unconsciousness.

Preparations

I woke in the morning after a dreamless sleep. I remembered everything—Victoria and her army, the Volturi, and the more painful realizations that Edward and Jacob were monsters I needed to run away from. I cleaned myself up and got dressed. Then I pulled out my duffle bag from under my bed and started packing. I went through my drawers pulling out clothes that would be suitable for Florida. Although I took a few sweaters and long pants and sweats, I left the bulk of the winter stuff behind. I retrieved a few toiletries from the bathroom and packed my bathroom bag. I looked over my books. I left the romances behind but packed _Hamlet_, _A Doll's House_, _The Awakening_, and _Their Eyes Were Watching God_. I realized that I need new stories. It didn't take long to fill the duffle bag. I took the CD out of my CD player and placed it in the case Edward gave me in September, and I took the photographs from my scrapbook without looking at them. I put these things together and placed them upside down in the bottom drawer of my desk. I realized that I should probably have destroyed them—to set myself free of their power, their lure—but I couldn't imagine ever coming back to Forks again, not with the two of them here, not after what I would do, not after what I would tell them.

I turned on the computer and looked up flights from Seattle to Jacksonville. Nothing went directly, of course. It would take anywhere from nearly nine hours to twelve hours to get there. Perhaps I could get a red-eye and get to Jacksonville on Monday morning. I would play it by ear. I grabbed my stash of money and put it into the duffle bag.

I made my bed and tidied up the room. I sat down on the bed and realized that I was sobbing, crying, tears were running down my face. It hurt, but I was resigned. As I wiped the tears away, I became conscious of the bracelet around my wrist. I sighed to myself. I undid the clasp, and the bracelet slid off my wrist and onto my bed. I got up and went downstairs to Charlie's trove of household tools. I found a pair of needle-nose pliers and grabbed two plastic zip lock sandwich bags. Back upstairs, I looked at Edward's heart-shaped diamond. He had let me assume it was a crystal, so I would accept the gift, deception after deception. How many were there? Was any of it true? Though tears welled up in my eyes, I forced myself to concentrate and not give into the tears. The diamond was yet another reminder of why this had to end and I had to get away from his web of lies. I carefully loosened the link that attached Edward's heart-shaped diamond to Jacob's graduation gift to me. With the link loosened, I removed the diamond from the bracelet and pressed the diamond's link closed again. I put the diamond in one baggy; I didn't want to loose it, so it seemed better to have it in a larger container for the time being, until I needed to return it. I put the bracelet with the wooden wolf charm in the other baggy (again temporarily). My gifts needed to be returned. Mechanically, I returned the pliers to the drawer with the rest of the tools.

How did I do this? What did I tell Charlie? Charlie and Deputy Mark were human. They were not enough as deterrents if it came down to a fight with a vampire or a werewolf. I suddenly realized that I needed to see Sam; the presence of a werewolf, may be two, would help. I also realized that I could ask Carlisle, Sam and Carlisle would give equal representation to the two sides, and Carlisle always seemed to value my will in making my own decisions. Carlisle had been willing to change me, when Edward refused, but asking Carlisle would tip Edward off even further. I would have to wait until after I told Edward to talk to Carlisle; Carlisle would be able to remind Edward that I had the right to make my own decisions, even if my decisions were in opposition to what Edward wanted.

I walked out to my truck and got in. It roared to life, and I drove down to the reservation. Having been to Emily and Sam's house before, I found it easily. With Jacob drugged and mending bones at home, I was not afraid of seeing him here which calmed my nerves. I parked the truck on the street and walked quietly to the door. I knocked awkwardly, but Emily smiled warmly at me when she saw me there. Emily and Sam seemed to be alone enjoying the post-battle peace. Though they greeted me kindly, they were obviously surprised by my visit, and suddenly, I didn't know where to start or what to say.

I looked up hesitantly, "Sam, I need to ask you a favor; I need your help," the words came out in a rush.

He looked at me thoughtfully and stood up, "Do you want to take a walk, Bella?" he asked.

"I—I don't want to interrupt," I stammered.

Emily and Sam exchanged a look, but Emily nodded at Sam, and he said, "It's not a problem, Bella; let's go," and he walked to the door motioning for me to follow.

"Thank you," I blurted out and followed. Outside, Sam made an effort to walk slowly, so I didn't have to jog to keep up with his long powerful legs. He waited while I collected my thoughts. "Here's the thing, Sam. I have decided I need to leave Forks. I have decided to go home to my mother, in Jacksonville. I haven't told Edward or Jacob yet, and I don't know how they are going to take the news. I am a little scared about that actually, and I was wondering, I was hoping that you might be willing to be there when I told them." It all came out in a blur, the words tumbling over themselves. I was not sure a regular person would have understood, but Sam was a werewolf, and his hearing was better than a regular person's.

"You think they would hurt you? You think that you will be in danger when you tell them?" he asked incredulously.

"I don't know, Sam," I moaned. "Before the battle, I loved them, I loved them both as impossible as that seems. But they are fighting over me, and something about that fighting has made me see them differently. I need to get away. I don't trust myself to stay away from them here, but I don't trust them to let me go or to stay away from me either. I might be wrong; I hope I am wrong about how they will react. But if I am not, I want to be prepared. Charlie is only human; I am only human; if either Edward or Jacob lost control …" I trailed off.

Sam looked at me long and hard. He saw the pain in my eyes but also the fear and concern. I knew that Sam of all people would know the dangers that an uncontrolled werewolf could present to regular humans (Emily's face was proof of that). "Okay," he said. "When do you want to do this?" he asked.

"I will probably try to have Edward come over after lunch, about 1:00 PM. I don't know how long it will take. I don't need you to be right there in the conversation, but if you are there, Edward will know that his actions are limited in ways that Charlie, Deputy Mark, and I can't enforce. Since Jacob is still pretty injured, I guess we will need to go to him as soon after Edward as possible. I am so sorry; I am going to ruin your afternoon," I added.

"It's okay, Bella," he said. "Are you really sure about this?" he asked me, concern and curiosity burning in his eyes.

"Yes, I think I am, Sam; at least, I have to get away to figure it out. I can't think clearly here. You've seen Jacob's mind; you know that he is manipulating me and trying to control my actions. The extent of that control is just starting to make itself clear to me—and Edward is doing the same thing. They are not treating me like a person who can or should make up her own mind. I don't want to be a play thing—they are hurting me," I said angrily.

Sam nodded, "Jacob loves you," he protested.

"Not enough to treat me like an equal," I retorted back.

"I see your point of view, Bella. I will help you leave, and I will also try to keep Jacob from coming after you. The choice to return or to see him again will be yours," he vowed.

I was right; he knew; he has seen the lies, the control, the manipulation. I fought back the tears that threatened to stream down my face. I felt so grateful. Sam was saving me again—not because he wanted to use my salvation to manipulate me and make me feel helpless but because I was a person hurting, and as a protector, he had an obligation to help those who needed help. All I could do was nod mutely in response. He seemed to understand. I realized it was right to come to Sam. He had let me choose before; he had respected my right to choose and be responsible for my own actions. Over spring break when the Cullens were still away and Victoria threatened, I had hidden out on the reservation, but not before Sam had asked me to choose, to make the decision to place myself in the proximity of werewolves with both the protection and threat that they posed. It was just Edward and Jacob who didn't seem able to trust me to decide my own fate. I realized that it was ironic that I was turning to Sam. I had seen him as the bad guy when Jacob was on the verge of transformation and scared about joining Sam's gang—that turned out to be the pack, the reservation boys with their great-grandfathers' magic blood that would make them transform into werewolves to meet the threat the return of the vampire Cullens created. Just when my life seemed to make sense, it spun around yet again.

Sam put his huge hand on my shoulder and said, "I am sorry you are hurting, Bella. Let's get back. You can prepare yourself. I might bring Jared with me; two werewolves would be more of a deterrent than one."

Then he walked me back to my truck. I was still fighting the tears, so I was quiet on the way back. Suddenly, an idea struck me. "You—you won't—won't tell Jacob before I do?" I whispered.

"No," he answered. "I will let you do that; it's your decision and your news. Take care of yourself, Bella."

"Thank you so much, Sam. I don't know how to…" and I trailed off.

He smiled sadly, "It's okay, Bella; be well," he said in farewell, and he turned and walked toward the house where Emily waited for him.

I drove home deep in thought. At home, I called my mother and told her I was coming home. I kept it limited. I would explain it all when I got there. She was overjoyed, but when she realized I meant I was coming home as soon as I could get there, she became alarmed. She wanted an explanation, but I put her off. I didn't know what flight I would be able to get on, but I told her Charlie would call her with the information. I tried to eat some lunch, but I just ate mechanically. I was too distracted by the anxiety I felt and what I needed to do.

Escaping Edward

It was time to call Edward. Charlie and Deputy Mark and Jared and Sam were crowded around the TV watching a baseball game in the living room with plenty of snacks and stuff so that they didn't need to interrupt me in the kitchen. It was perhaps an odd grouping, but they were handling it with good grace. I was packed. I had Edward's diamond in my jeans' pocket.

I picked up the phone and called his number. He answered immediately again. "Hello, Edward, may I see you?" I asked quietly.

"I'll be right there, love," he whispered.

And he was; only a few minutes passed from me hanging up the receiver and his gentle knock at the door. Tactfully, Charlie slightly increased the volume of the game—not enough to be blaring and not enough so they couldn't hear if the conversation got too tense or heated, but enough so I could say what I needed privately—so long as the conversation stayed cordial and I didn't need help.

Edward smiled at me as I opened the door, though his eyes were pained and full of emotion I couldn't read. He was as beautiful as ever, perhaps more so to me at that moment because I knew I was leaving him. He didn't seem surprised by the werewolves, although he would have heard them or smelled them before he entered the house. He nodded causally in their direction, and my father yelled a gruff hello over the game.

We walked into the little kitchen and stood facing each other.

"Bella," he whispered, "I love you. You know that don't you?" and he moved close to me to encircle me in his arms, but I skirted away from him and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. His eyes widened, "Bella?" surprise and hurt were clear in his voice.

"I need to talk to you, Edward," I whispered. I looked into his eyes, and then had to look down at the table. The force of his eyes, his face, his lips—it was painful. You have to do this, I told myself.

He sat quietly in the chair next to me. He took my left hand, the one that had worn his ring so recently, and held it in his. I could touch his hand; that was okay I told myself. "Yes," he prompted.

I looked up into his magnificent face, and I blurted out the words, "I can't marry you, Edward. I am going home to Jacksonville, to my mother, and I need you to stay away from me," I said softly.

He looked at me with agonized eyes. "I knew this day would come. I knew that something would be too much and you would run from me. Was it my fight with Victoria? Were you really scared of what you saw me do? I would never hurt you, Bella? I love you. I love you so much; I can't imagine my life without you. How can I make it up to you?" he asked repentantly.

"It isn't about Victoria; it doesn't have anything really to do with you being a vampire," I whispered.

His face was confused, and then he glanced at the werewolves, "Have you chosen Jacob?" his voice barely suppressed his anger and jealousy.

"No, Edward; I am leaving both of you. I have realized that you both have lied to me, manipulated me, and attempted to control me. In fact, some of your strategies I see now as psychological abuse. I have loved you; I do love you. It is horribly painful to be making this decision to leave you, but I don't believe that you love me or you don't love me the way you should—the way a woman and a man who are about to be married should love each other," I said firmly.

Shock flitted across his face and other emotions I was not sure how to read. He struggled for control before he spoke. "You think I have been abusive," he said dismissively. "You think I don't love you? What is the proper way for me to love you?"

"Yes, you have been abusive," I answered. "You have stalked me; you have manipulated and controlled my actions; you have forced me to do what you want me to do. You have never treated me like an equal—this is the critical part, Edward. You have never respected my right for self-determination. If you don't agree with my decisions, you find ways to alter those decisions and make me do what you want me to. Until you can respect me to make my own mistakes and be responsible for my own decisions, you can't really love me—or you love me in a way that I don't want and cannot accept."

"But I have only tried to protect you, and you often enjoy the things I have you do when we are doing them," he added trying to defend himself.

"Don't you see, Edward; that's wrong. You need to let me choose to go to the prom or to spend the weekend in Florida when danger is in Forks or to marry you. Forcing me to do things for my own good or because I might be happy with those decisions after the fact, takes away my ability to make my own decisions, to have my own agency. I can't be with someone who can't let me make my own decisions."

He could see that I was determined about this. His face went very white, and his eyes burned with pain and regret. It hurt to look at him, to know that I was causing him pain, but there was no other way that I could see. "I can change," he offered.

"I am not sure I can believe that, Edward," I sighed.

"I can't lose you," he pleaded. "Bella, give me a chance; let me try to change."

I shook my head slowly, and suddenly, he was pulling me up from my seat and into his arms. I gasped. This was dangerous; I knew that instantly. Holding Edward's hand might be okay, and looking at him also, but more intimate physical contact could weaken my resolve.

"Edward," I breathed, "please, don't." The tears leaked down my cheeks. "I care about you so much, too much; it makes it so much more difficult," I pleaded. Reluctantly, he released his hold and stood looking at me.

"I'll change you, anything you want, Bella, please" he said desperately.

Again I shook my head. "Being changed into a vampire only meant something to me if we were together, Edward, and even in that argument between us, what I wanted, my choice, was always secondary to what you wanted, what you chose. Now, being immortal is not what I choose because my future is separate from yours."

"But you are _mine_, Bella. You said you would marry me. I can't be without you; you complete me. I will do whatever it takes," he said, still not releasing me.

It was too much, his arms, his chest, his scent. I was so distracted, but I kept my breathing even, and replied, "Edward, I am not a possession." Why did men always want to reduce women to objects, and I had fleeting thoughts of Nora Helmer and Edna Pontiellier. "I am not something you can own and call yours. I wanted to be your partner, your equal, and you have repeatedly denied me that through your cunning designs and blatant manipulation. Sam and Jared are here for me, to help me leave. Please let me go," I demanded.

He acknowledged my threat, by gently releasing me. His eyes suddenly sparkled with anger, "Are they going to protect you from Jacob too?" he sneered.

"Yes, Edward, actually they are. Sam can control Jacob more completely than he can threaten you, as I am sure you will remember," a replied coolly. As the leader of the pack, Sam's commands had to be followed; Jacob would have no choice if Sam ordered him to do something.

"I can't let you go, Bella," he threatened softly.

"You have to, Edward. After I have talked to both you and Jacob, Charlie is taking me to the police station, and I am filing restraining orders against both of you, and then I am getting on an airplane to Jacksonville. I will also call Carlisle and explain the situation to him. You always said that you would let me go—if that's what I wanted. Why are you fighting me now?" I asked.

"I just can't live without you. If you leave me, Bella, I will go back to the Volturi. I swear I will," he threatened.

But I was prepared for that threat. "You went to the Volturi before because you thought I was dead. I am not dead now, Edward. I am just choosing to be separate from you. I will not be manipulated into staying with you. You have manipulated me far too often for me to allow it any further. So you have no one but yourself to blame. If you choose to kill yourself, you are killing yourself because of how you have treated me and how that has finally alienated me from you."

"But the Volturi will come for you, Bella. We promised them that you would become a vampire," he was grasping desperately for some reason for me to stay with him.

"I'll take my chances. If my mind is shielded from what you and Aro and Jane can do, I agree with you that it is probably just as shielded from Demetri's tracking skills. Away from you or others who Demetri can track, I should be fine."

"I'll follow you," he added darkly.

"So will Sam and Jared as long as I need them too," I countered.

It was time. I had said all I needed to say. He understood. There was one last thing to do. "Edward, I have your mother's diamond to return to you," I whispered carefully, though I could hear the sadness under the surface of my voice. I reached into my jeans' pocket and pulled the sparkling heart out. I tried to place it in his hand, but he pulled away and would not meet my eyes.

"I don't want it back; it was a gift," he said offended.

"I can't accept it now," I answered. "Please take it."

He stubbornly refused, so I placed it on the kitchen table. I would have Charlie return it to Alice. I sighed and took a steadying breath, "Sam," I called softly, "I think Edward is ready to leave."

Edward's face flew up toward mine; there were anger and sorrow in his grief stricken face, "I am not really. I can't say the words," he choked. His arms were suddenly around me again, pressing me into his hard chest, his lips kissing my hair and inhaling my scent. My resolve caved slightly. I looked up into his golden eyes and let my fingers trace over his perfect face one last time. My tears were streaming down my cheeks now, and I started to sob softly. Sam appeared silently at the kitchen doorway. He stood quietly—imposing his presence but not joining us or interrupting us. Slowly, I pulled myself away, and Edward, acknowledging the threat of Sam's presence, released me.

"Good-bye, Edward," I murmured.

"Won't I ever see you again?" he asked, the pain clear in his voice.

"I don't think so. I need to heal myself first. But I don't think I will give you another chance to hurt me as badly as you have done, and I am not sure that I can ever trust you to let me make my own decisions or to be completely truthful to me."

Even though Sam was right there, Edward was suddenly in front of me again. He pressed his lips to my forehead and whispered, "I will love you forever," and then kissed my lips fiercely and pulled away before Sam could get worked up enough to intervene. Then he was gone. The click of the door was the only evidence of his inhumanly fast departure. I staggered to the kitchen counter and clutched it to steady myself. I felt dizzy and sick. Could I do this? I thought Edward was the love of my life, my existence, and I had sent him away. I had refused to marry him. I had ended it. I was crying and sobbing.

Sam gently put his hand on my shoulder. "Are you all right, Bella? I think you were right, Bella," and I could hear the note of wary surprise in his voice. Edward's reaction had taken him off guard. "I don't think he would have left if Jared and I weren't here. He hasn't even really left. He is outside the house just inside the forest, waiting. I think Jared and I will see you to the police station and then to the airport," he added urgently.

Charlie was in the kitchen doorway now. "Bella, are you all right? What do we need to do now, kiddo?"

"I am so sorry to impose on all of you," I choked out between the tears. "I think I need a little bit of time upstairs, to collect myself before I try to do this again." I couldn't choke out the words "with Jacob."

Sam looked at Charlie and said, "We are fine, Bella. Take your time. We have the game."

Charlie added, "We just want you to feel safe, baby," and though worry creased his face, he managed a weak smile.

I nodded and went upstairs. I lay down on the bed and cried for a while, but I knew this had to be done. It was the only way, and half of it was over. If I could pull myself together and tell Jacob next—all the hard part would be over. The police station and the airport should be easy—or at least not emotionally painful. I controlled my breathing and dried my eyes. I went into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. I looked at myself in the mirror as I dried my face. I didn't look particularly good, but I had certainly looked worse, and something more, I looked resolved, calmly resolved. So I went downstairs. We would drive over to see Jacob. Sam and Jared were to ride with me, and Charlie and Deputy Mark would take dad's cruiser.

Escaping Jacob

I vacillated between murmuring apologies for taking up their day and my gratitude most of the way to the reservation. Sam and Jared nodded at me occasionally, but sat up very still on the bench seat of the truck, and I knew that they were listening and smelling Edward following us. Suddenly, I was scared that Edward would cross the treaty line, and I didn't know what would happen then.

"Sam, if he follows us all the way …" I couldn't finish. My anxious eyes, watched his face as he answered.

"Bella, we don't want a war. We have been through so much together and even respect the Cullens at this point. I don't think that either Edward or Jacob will take your decisions easily. In fact, I can even expect their behavior to be irrational, and perhaps the pack and the Cullens can overlook irrational behavior today on their parts—as long as it doesn't turn violent. The pack will respect your choices about your future and will protect your ability to act on those choices. Neither Edward nor Jacob may agree with that, but having seen into Jacob's mind as a werewolf brother, I cannot deny that he has attempted elaborate means to control and manipulate you. I cannot know Edward's mind, but I have certainly also seen, Jacob's conviction that Edward has played you even more adeptly than he has. My own exploits in love have had their fill of betrayal as I believe you know, but I truly loved Leah and saw her as my partner, not my inferior; that's part of the reason it broke my heart to betray her so when I saw Emily. I didn't have a choice, Bella. I will help you protect your right to make your own choices. This vampire/werewolf stuff has taken away a lot our choices at least for the Cullens and for our tribe, but you can choose to walk away from this if that is what you want. We are protectors not jailors, Bella. If Edward crosses the line, I will choose to ignore it for now. But I may have Jared transform and call in more reinforcements for added deterrent incentives," he added gravely.

I nodded and apologized again. As we pulled up to the Black house, Billy stuck his head out the door with an obviously look of surprise. He recognized the roar of the truck, of course, but he was even more surprised to see Sam and Jared in my truck with me and Charlie in the cruiser with Deputy Mark.

"What should I do?" I asked Sam. "Do we all go in? What do you think?"

"Bella, Edward has crossed the line though he keeps a distance. I think he is only listening to what happens here. Still, I would like Jared to transform and call in Quil and Embry. I don't think having Paul involved right now is a good idea." Sam looked over at Jared, and he nodded and got out of the truck and disappeared. "Let's see if we can get Billy, Charlie, and Mark talking on the porch, and I will come inside with you," he suggested.

"Yes, okay," I said meekly.

Sam and I walked toward my father and Deputy Mark. "Dad, could you and Deputy Mark try and keep Billy on the porch talking baseball or fishing or something? Sam will come into the house with me, and we'll yell if we need any help, okay?" I asked.

"Bella, are you sure you don't want us in there too?" Charlie asked with obvious concern in his eyes.

"Dad, Jacob is like family, and even though he will take this badly, I don't really believe that he will hurt me, and Sam will be with me in the house, and I promise that we will raise our voices if things even begin to get uncomfortable. It will be okay," I assured him, at least I hoped. But I also knew that Sam could command Jacob to do whatever he said—if it came to that.

Charlie nodded and gave me a hug. "I am so sorry I didn't protect you from this better, Bella," he said with obvious regret and guilt in his voice.

"We are taking care of it now, Dad. It will be okay," I assured him.

The four of us walked to the house, and I could see that Billy didn't miss the fact that both Charlie and Deputy Mark wore their guns. Billy's eyes shot to Sam's face, and Sam nodded slightly at Billy, and then said, "Bella needs to speak with Jacob again, Billy, if that's okay?"

Billy nodded cautiously. Charlie started chatting about baseball, and Billy took up the hint and chatted along—though he found it somewhat more difficult to hide his surprise that Sam accompanied me into the house.

Once in the familiar house, Sam sat himself on the couch and made himself comfortable. I smiled weakly at him and braced myself for round two with Jacob. I walked to his room and knocked lightly at the door. His answer showed his surprise at the formality, and I pulled the door open tentatively. Delighted surprise flooded his face as he saw me there. I struggled to figure out how he might be interpreting my reappearance, and I gasped at the thought that he might think I had changed my mind and had chosen him. This was going to be just as brutal as with Edward—and I had the unpleasant knowledge that Edward was in the forest beyond the house listening to the whole exchange.

"Hey," I said. "How do you feel? Any better?"

"About the same, actually Bella, but it is damn good to see you! What brought you?" he asked hopefully.

"Actually, Jacob, I have been thinking a lot about me and my future," I began.

He struggled to sit up more, excitement and eagerness flashing across his face, "Bella, I am perfect for you. We belong together. I could protect you; you could be _mine_," he exclaimed.

I shook my head slowly. "No, Jacob, you don't understand. I am leaving; I am leaving Forks. I am moving to Florida with my mom," I said softly.

"What? What do you mean? I don't understand," he said, obviously confused but also with a trace of anger.

"I haven't picked very healthy relationships, Jacob. I have decided that you were right, Edward was manipulating me, controlling me, but I have also realized that you were doing the exact same thing, manipulating me and controlling me. I am leaving to get away from you both," I replied.

"I love you. I would never hurt you. Leave Edward, but stay with me, please, Bella; I can make you happy; I can take care of you," he pleaded.

"You don't get it, neither of you do; I don't want to be taken care of! I want to be your partner, someone you respect, someone who is your equal. I don't want to be protected. More than any of that, I don't want to be manipulated and controlled. I loved you. I loved you both—until yesterday—when I finally saw how you lied and created your elaborate schemes to gain possession of me. I am an object of desire to you, to you both, and I am done. Repeatedly I have told you how I felt and what I wanted and didn't want, and you have refused to listen to me. Because you have refused to listen to what I want, you have no hold on me, not any more," I said fiercely.

Jacob looked stunned. "But I love you. Let me make it up to you, Bella, please. You mean everything to me," he pleaded.

I shook my head again, "No, Jacob, I can't. You have had all the chances I can give. I can't trust myself to stay here and not be sucked in by you and Edward and your lies and games, and I can't trust you, either of you, to abandon those games. We are just in too deep—all of us—the only way for me to heal is to get away and start fresh, and I am doing that. I am leaving tonight, and I am telling you that we are done, finished. You can't come to visit me, you can't call me or write me or anything. After I leave here, I am filing restraining orders against both you and Edward, and Charlie will make sure that the Jacksonville police have that information to deter you from visiting me in Florida. You have to stay away from me, Jacob. Please don't hold on to the possibility that I will change my mind. It could happen, but I really don't see how. What I see now is that you and Edward have hurt me terribly, you have abused me in your conquest of me and your battle over me. I won't let myself be hurt like that again."

"How have I been abusive?" he said with a sharp edge to his voice.

"Lying to me, attempting to control and manipulate me, to shape my decisions for me—these are all ways men psychologically abuse women. Look it up. It's so textbook, in fact, only the crazy way I have loved you made me refuse to see it," I said.

"I can change, Bella; give me a chance," he pleaded.

"No, remember at the movies that night with Mike Newton. You called me a doll, a porcelain doll; that's how you have always seen our relationship, even before you were a werewolf, and now that you are, I can never be your equal, your partner. You can't change or not for a significant amount of time, and I can't become what you are even if I wanted to, and I don't think I want to. Being a werewolf with you wouldn't undo the things that you have tried to force me to do all this year, and now that I see the premeditation you have put into forcing my hand as clearly as I do, I can't go back to the way it was. I am sorry."

"But don't you see, that's why I never wanted it. I never wanted to be a werewolf because I just wanted to be with you. When the change happened, I wouldn't accept Sam's offer for the leadership, for the role of the Alpha, because as soon as I could, I wanted to stop being a werewolf and be human for you, with you, so we could be equal. That's why I never told you I was second in command because I didn't want it; I didn't want any of it," he confessed.

"Jacob, I don't care if you're a werewolf. That part doesn't make you a monster. What makes you a monster is the way you calculatingly used our friendship and my feelings toward you to play me, to get me to do and act the way you wanted me to. You saw me as a doll, a possession, a thing to be played with. I don't want to be a possession or possessed. I want a partnership, and neither you nor Edward has ever offered me that. So I am leaving. I think we have said all that needs to be said. Is there anything else?"

Jacob struggled on his bed. He looked like he was going to try to stand up—though half the bones on the right side of his body were broken. Without thinking, I moved toward him and used both my hands to press his good shoulder back onto his pillows. "No, Jacob, don't. You need to heal," I said ardently.

"Bella, I love you," he murmured. "I can't let you go. Now that I know you aren't marrying Edward, I have to do something."

"No, Jacob, it is too late. You both have lost me. This isn't an invitation for you to play harder. Really it was your game or your contest over me that finally made me see that I have to leave here. It's time for me to go," I said softly.

"No, Bella!"

"There's one more thing. I have your bracelet to return," and I dug in my pocket and pulled it out carefully. "I can't keep it any more," I said as carefully as I could.

"I don't want it back, Bella; I made it for you," he said, the pain in his voice unmistakable.

"I can't keep it," and I placed it gently on his dresser.

"Bella, please."

"No, I can't," I answered firmly. "I returned Edward's gift too," I said because I thought that it would mean more to him than my simply returning his gift. Apparently, I was right from the resigned but not mutinous expression on his face. "Jacob, Sam is in the other room. You can't stop me, and you shouldn't try," I warned.

"Sam," Jacob yelled, "you can't do this. You can't go against a brother like this; it's wrong. It will destroy the pack."

Sam's calm face was suddenly at the door. "Jacob, a brother cannot stand against the mate of a brother's imprinting, and though you love Bella, you have not imprinted on her; she is not your imprinted mate; she has a right to her free will, and she has asked me to defend her free will against both you and Edward Cullen. It is time for her to go. I know that you are angry at me, but we will deal with that after she has gone. Quil and Embry are outside the house to make sure you stay put, and they can call in reinforcements if needed. Heal, brother. I will see you tomorrow." Then, Sam looked at me and said, "It is time to go, Bella."

I nodded and turned back to Jacob, "Good-bye." He reached out his hand, and I squeezed it. I could see tears leaking out of his eyes, but I forced myself to turn and walk out of the room, following Sam.

Jared, in human form, was talking casually with Billy, Charlie, and Deputy Mark. When Sam and I walked onto the porch, Billy said goodnight and re-entered the house. We reconfirmed the police station as our destination and got into our vehicles, Sam and Jared with me in my truck and Charlie and Deputy Mark in the cruiser. Sam pushed me into the middle of the truck's bench seat and drove the truck. Again both Sam and Jared were hyper attentive as we drove. Though tears streamed down my cheeks and I sobbed for a short time, I felt relieved. Once the wave of emotion had crashed over me, I paid more attention to Sam and Jared.

"Is Edward still out there?" I asked in a hushed voice.

"Yes, he follows us," Sam answered.

Suddenly, we heard it. The forest was full of the anguished howl of a wolf. Jacob had transformed into a werewolf to cry out in pain. The tears started streaming again now; it wasn't supposed to be safe for him to transform for a week or more; would his transformation make it necessary for his bones to be re-broken again? But he wanted me to know; he had to turn the knife one more time—"you hurt me, so I will let you know that you hurt me and that it hurt me to let you know."

"Sam?" I asked automatically.

"Quil and Embry are there; they'll take care of it or call for others," he answered though his voice was thick with worry.

The Station

I resigned myself to not being able to know anything else. To trusting that it would be okay, and on we drove. My thoughts drifted to Janie Crawford, in _Their Eyes Were Watching God_. Janie had loved Tea Cake; he had been her true partner in life; they run off together to start a new life in a place where they could be on equal footing, first Jacksonville and then "de muck" of the Everglades; in their very first encounter described in the novel, Tea Cake teaches her to play checkers; something no one else had bothered to do and that establishes his desire for her as an equal whether playing checkers or driving. He also taught her to shoot, and they worked side by side picking beans. Of course, Tea Cake wasn't without his flaws (lying to her, taking her money, and hitting her once), but what he strove for most of the time was her happiness and their partnership as equals. Then the hurricane came, and Tea Cake was bitten by the rabid dog, and he became rabid himself. Out of his mind, he came at her with a gun, and she defended herself with their rifle. She was forced to kill him to save herself. She destroyed the monster that wasn't the Tea Cake she loved. I had hurt them, the men I loved, but I hadn't killed them. Edward and Jacob were alive, I comforted myself. I couldn't destroy the monsters they had become, and I didn't mean the vampire or the werewolf, I meant the monsters that preyed upon women like me, and Little Red and Ophelia. Only they could change themselves, and I had enough to deal with recovering from what they'd done to me; I couldn't help them. I had to focus on myself.

The station was as normal as ever. Sam parked across from the station while Charlie and Deputy Mark pulled the cruiser into the reserved parking. We filed solemnly into the station. Deputy Steve nodded as we entered. Charlie led the way back to his office, let us in, and then shut the door. There was a sofa against the far wall, and Sam and Jared crossed to it and sat down. Charlie walked behind his desk and motioned to me and Deputy Mark indicating two of the chairs in front of his desk. It was quiet, and though I knew I needed to do this, I was a little afraid. I was afraid of Charlie's reaction; part of me was also afraid that I'd blown it all out of proportion, and no one would see the things I told them as abusive at all.

"Bella, what we can do is make Domestic Violence reports in reference to the behaviors of Edward and Jacob. These would be two separate reports. Making the reports is the first step. Then, the questions come about how to proceed from there. Do you want to press charges against these boys?" Deputy Mark asked.

"No, I don't think I do. I want there to be a public record of what happened, in case they won't let me alone. But if they do leave me alone, it doesn't need to go further. I don't want to come back here to go through a hearing or anything like that."

Deputy Mark, nodded. "We should request Protection from Abuse orders too; they are sometimes know as PFAs; they are like restraining orders only a bit more comprehensive. The Domestic Violence reports will document what has happened, and the Protection from Abuse orders will mean that if either of them violates those orders, criminal charges can be made, but only if they violate the terms of the orders. I want you to consider this seriously. Protection from Abuse orders are court orders. Even if you change your mind, the court orders do not cease to be effect without formal court action. Most times, the victims of abuse do not have any change of heart, so the Protection from Abuse orders are enforced to everyone's satisfaction. But there are times when a victim is under the protection of a PFA, but she decides to see the former boyfriend/husband. It doesn't matter that she invites him over or wants to see him, the orders mandate enforcement, so the boyfriend/husband is charged by the police. Do you understand?" he said looking at me gravely.

"Yes, Deputy Mark, I understand. The Protection from Abuse orders are just what I think I need. I don't want them to get in trouble if they leave me alone, but if they try to see me again, I want someone to be able to intervene."

Deputy Mark continued, "The Chief and I will look into reciprocity between Washington and Florida on the orders, so what is filed here in Washington may be able to protect you in Florida, and Charlie and I can contact the Jacksonville police, so they know what is going on. If we can't establish reciprocity, you will need to file separate orders in Jasksonville. Protection from Abuse orders would protect you from acts that could be considered violent, threatening, harassing, and/or sexual. Typically, Protection from Abuse orders protect you from personal contact with the abuser and prohibit all contact between the abuser and you. That would mean that we would request that Edward and Jacob must not come within one hundred and fifty feet of you, that they are not allowed within one hundred and fifty feet of your residence, school, or place of employment, and that they cannot call you, e-mail you, make Facebook, MySpace, or any other contact with you."

I listened carefully as Deputy Mark spoke, "I want to go through this carefully with you; we need to document the different incidents. Charges that are put under domestic crimes include murder, negligent homicide, justifiable homicide, kidnapping, sexual assault, rape, robbery, assault, battery, child abuse, property destruction, harassment, reckless endangerment, and stalking. I think we can rule out some but please correct me if I am assuming too much. Can we rule out murder, homicide, and child abuse?"

"Yes," I said firmly. "You can also eliminate robbery and property destruction." Edward had taken my things—but they were things he or his family had given me and my photographs of him—but he had returned them to me. I had left them behind this time. It seemed a small thing to bring up, so I didn't. There were more pressing issues.

"Sexual assault or rape?" he asked, and I noticed the color drain from Charlie's face, but Deputy Mark ignored him.

"Well, Jacob forced me to kiss him on two occasions, but I wouldn't call that sexual assault." I did think of the first time as an assault, and the second time was under a threat, but what I wanted to document were the acts of psychological manipulation and the threats of physical violence whether conscious or unconsciously made by Edward and Jacob. "No, neither one have sexually assaulted or raped me," I said more quietly.

"Since what is called Simple Obsessional Stalking can include following or shadowing a person, appearing at a person's home, and surveillance, I think that should be included on our Domestic Violence Report for Edward from what your father has told me. Can you give me specific incidents?" he asked.

"Well," I began hesitantly, Charlie wasn't going to like hearing this especially since I would be more explicit this time, "It began last year around the spring dance. The first thing I knew about was that Edward followed me to Port Angeles. I didn't know at the time, but I ran into him there, and he later confessed to having followed me." I was withholding the information about the four men who nearly assaulted me and who Edward had driven away from me, but this wasn't about them. It was about Edward, and it was weird that he had followed me, wasn't it? I glanced at my father, and his rigid expression told me that, yes, it was creepy that Edward had followed me; the idea of it made my father furious.

"Later," I continued, "I found out that he had been watching me in my bedroom." I braced for my father's reaction to the next part; "in fact, I found out that he came into our house, that he spent time in my bedroom when dad and I didn't know."

"What?" my father shrieked. "Bella, he broke into our house and was in your bedroom! When did you find out about this? Why didn't you tell me?" Charlie demanded, his face turned a frightening shade of purple and contorted with fury. "How did he get in?"

"I told you he watched me, Dad. He saw where we keep the spare key. He saw me use it to get in the house," I said softly. This wasn't completely accurate, of course, but I thought it was better than trying to explain Edward was a vampire who could jump through my bedroom window.

"Easy, Chief," Deputy Mark said calmly. "Go on, Bella. How often?" he urged.

"I am not completely sure," I answered. "He started watching me last March, as I said, and has watched me with some regularity since then (except for when he and his family were in Los Angeles)." I didn't need to be too specific. The details about him actually being in my bedroom while I slept might give dad a heart attack. And from their reactions the ideas that Edward had been watching my bedroom and secretly coming into the house occasionally seemed bad enough to both Charlie and Deputy Mark.

"Wow," Deputy Mark said. "The entering the house part ratchets this up from Obsessional Stalking to Breaking and Entering, Harassment, and Assault. Even if there wasn't physical contact—the idea that he had access to your home, your room, your most private things—makes the act threatening. It's home invasion."

"Did Edward ever kidnap you or hold you against your will, Bella?" Deputy Mark continued. My father looked a little staggered by the idea. Edward had kidnapped me on occasion or had Alice do it, but I didn't know how to bring that up without revealing more than I wanted to. I would let that go, so I shook my head.

"Did he ever physically hurt you or make displays of violent behavior that you interpreted as threatening?"

To displays of violent behavior, the answer was yes—all the time. Even when he was saving me in Port Angeles, or from James, or Victoria, the threat of violence was always there. "He didn't ever hit me or anything, but he was very strong, and I saw him break things or destroy them when he was angry. I saw him in a couple of fights, and he won; he annihilated his opponents. I always knew that he could hurt me if he wanted to." I hoped they wouldn't pursue the idea of Edward annihilating opponents, but they seemed to be taking my words metaphorically instead of literally.

"Are there specific incidents?" he pushed.

"Sure, the day of the spring dance, last year, I saw Edward break something rather dramatically." I would skip over James and Phoenix—that seemed to hard to explain without talking about vampires and his family being there too. "After I went with Alice to Los Angeles to get Edward, he got mad and smashed up some thing to vent his anger. And yesterday at the brawl, he was terrifying; I was scared." It was true, I had been scared. I had been scared that he would be hurt by Victoria and Riley, but the bottom line was that I was under threat in the first place because I was with Edward.

Charlie was tense, but in better control now than he had been before. He clearly didn't like the idea of Edward being threatening to me, but it was better than the idea of him being in my room. "Can that be considered Simple Battery? But there is no physical contact—to Bella anyway. What about Disorderly Conduct since the acts unreasonably alarm or disturb another person? Or Reckless Endangerment, anything that could place her in substantial risk of physical injury or death?"

"Yeah, throw in both; I'm good with adding both," Charlie answered sourly. Charlie would agree to add any charge on at this point.

"Anything else, Bella?" Deputy Mark asked.

It seemed like a long list: Obsessional Stalking, Breaking and Entering, Harassment, Assault, Disorderly Conduct, and Reckless Endangerment. "I know that we are focusing on the physical aspects of the abuse, but so much more of it was psychological. In both cases. They lied and manipulated me. They ignored my ability to make my own decisions. They forced things on me. It is this part, the psychological damage that I have to get away from. Do you understand?" I asked.

"I do, Bella, but it is harder to document the psychological stuff. I think it is very important for you to work on documenting that for yourself, but as police officers, we have to have concrete infractions and evidence of those infractions before we can act, and physical contact provides better evidence than psychological games—that can be more devastating, no doubt, but that are also open to more interpretation and distortion. We have quite a list on Edward. Everything on the Domestic Violence report can be used to call for the Protection from Abuse order; so that is Edward taken care of. We should move on to Jacob now," said Deputy Mark.

"Reckless Endangerment definitely goes on Jacob's documents—between the motorcycle and getting her to think of cliff diving as a recreational activity—I could beat that boy," said Charlie menacingly.

"Alright, Chief," said Deputy Mark placatingly. "Murder, homicide, child abuse, we can count those off?" he questioned.

"Yes, and things like stalking, property destruction, robbery, and kidnapping, too," I added. Although I suddenly wasn't as sure about the kidnapping thing. He had kidnapped me from the Cullens' protection, but I had gone willingly enough.

"Did Jacob ever physically hurt you or make displays of violent behavior that you interpreted as threatening?" he asked.

"Jacob grew so fast," I began, "he didn't realize his own strength. Some times he hurt me without meaning to. He would also get angry and appear menacing. He had more difficulty controlling his anger when he got going than Edward. I saw him break things when he was angry, and I also saw what he did to people when he fought them. Jacob could be terrifying as well. When he was angry, when he was not in control, I felt threatened."

Charlie looked highly uncomfortable. This was Billy's son we were talking about. Documenting Jacob as abusive was hard for him, but he seemed determined. "Assault, Simply Battery? He physically hurt you?" Deputy Mark inquired.

I remembered the crushing hugs where I couldn't breathe. I remembered using all my strength to push him away from me and not being able to stop him when he force himself on me. I remembered the frenzied shaking when Jacob was upset that could have left me as scared as Emily or worse. I nodded, "Yes, he hurt me a couple of times. I don't think he meant to, but it hurt. I can't deny that. The threat of violence was also always there. He was jealous of Edward and much more vocal about that jealousy than Edward was. He made repeated reference to the idea of killing Edward. So I guess over spring break this year there were a couple of times when I was hurt or felt threatened in his presence, and there was yesterday at the brawl again. There is also all the psychological crap that Jacob did, the lying and manipulation," I added. Just like Edward; I had a talent for attracting seriously twisted men.

"I think we can add Harassment and Disorderly Conduct, what do you think, Chief?" Deputy Mark asked.

Charlie nodded. He looked pained, but I knew he cared about me more than Billy or Jacob. After all, if Jacob actually left me alone, none of this would need to go any further. Jacob's transgressions amounted to Reckless Endangerment, Assault, Simple Battery, Harassment, and Disorderly Conduct. "Okay, same deal, Bella; this information goes on both the Domestic Violence report and backs up the need for the Protection from Abuse order for Jacob. You'll need to sign some forms for us, but we can handle the rest." Deputy Mark gathered the papers he had been writing on and left the office.

We were done. It was done. I had done everything I could to make my wishes known. I had told them, and I had documented the abuse. Charlie and the police, whether in Washington or in Florida, had what he and they needed to protect me legally. It was time to go. More important than that was knowing that what Edward and Jacob had done to me was truly considered abuse by law enforcement. I wasn't over-reacting or blowing things out of proportion. I was a victim who needed protection, and I was doing the right things to protect myself.

That the Cullens could attract and deflect police attention made me wonder if my attempts at protecting myself through Domestic Violence reports and Protection from Abuse orders would work. It wasn't enough to tell Edward. I had to tell Carlisle too. They probably already knew through Alice's visions—or knew enough—knew to know that suddenly my future and Edward's future followed separate paths. Now the Cullens' actions toward me would not be about trying to incorporate me into their family and shielding their identities as vampires—I would be out of the picture, and they would have only their identities to preserve which would mean they would work to keep Edward contained. I asked Deputy Mark to call the hospital for Carlisle's telephone number. It turned out that Carlisle was actually at the hospital, so Deputy Mark handed me the phone.

"Hello, Carlisle," I said hesitantly.

"Yes, Bella?" he answered in his sweet, musical voice.

The words came out in a rush, "I have decided to leave Forks, Carlisle. I don't know how much Alice has told you, but I have spoken with Edward and told him my decisions. I am not going to marry him, and I have asked him to leave me alone. I have made it as official as I can and that means police documents; Charlie is handling that now. But I am afraid that Edward might not leave me alone, so I wanted you to know. I have grown to love you and your family very much, so it is hard for me to say good-bye to you all. However, I see now that Edward has been hurting me and refusing to respect my decisions, and I have to get away from him," I said.

"I'm sorry that you feel so threatened, Bella. I believe that Edward loves you very much; it will be very difficult for him, but I respect your decision to make your own choices. If this is what you choose, I will do what I can to honor that decision. We all will, but we will miss you terribly. You know we all think of you as part of our family; we love you, child," he said softly. "Take care of yourself, Bella," he added.

The tears were flowing down my cheeks, as I choked out a response, "I love you too, Carlisle. I will miss you all so. Tell them—especially Alice. Good-bye," I said and hung up the phone. It was worse than I imagined. I would loose them all: Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, and Jasper, in addition to Edward. The loss sent grief crashing through my system, and yet, I thought of the smugness on Edward's glorious face when all his scheming had finally brought about the decision he wanted me to make, when I had agreed to marry him. His face had been arrogantly triumphant. The arrogance of that look fueled a sense of rage in me. He was always playing me, always. What I wanted was never enough. I steeled myself and wiped the tears from face.

Charlie looked me with genuine sorrow and regret on his face. "I am so sorry, Bella. I didn't know, and I didn't ask enough questions. I didn't pay enough attention. I feel like I have failed you. Letting you get so hurt by both of these boys. What a horrible father I am," he said harshly.

I smiled a weak smile and looked at him. "Dad, I lied to you. I kept things hidden. A lot of the blame goes to me. I just got so wrapped up in the fairy tale qualities of my relationships that I didn't see them for what they were. But I woke up. I am not a princess after all, and though the draw of the princess identity has shocking appeal, I realize that I just want to be myself and truly responsible for myself. I can get myself out of Forks and these relationships with a little help. I think it will be okay, I'll be okay. I just need some time. I will keep in touch, and I will tell you more, okay?"

"Promise me, Bella? I don't think I can take it if I found out that I had let you down again."

"I promise, Dad," and I hugged him. I loved my father, and I had so consistently lied and hidden things from him that it was easy to forgive him for his own failings.

In my truck, by noting the postures of Sam and Jared, I knew that at least Edward followed us to the airport. He didn't show himself, but I felt his presence. Though Jacob had transformed, I thought his injuries were such that he was still home suffering through transforming back into a human—but I couldn't be sure. The idea of them running through the forest and hounding my escape from Forks was oppressive. More stalking. The evening darkness did nothing to lighten the suffocating feeling that there were watchful eyes and invisible pursuers out there following me. The sooner we were at the airport surrounded by lots of people, the safer and freer I would feel.

The freeway opened up to the airport which sparkled and shone, lit up by millions of electric lights. I thought I had never seen anything so inviting and welcoming in my life. Sam and Jared both seemed a little more relaxed at the airport, or perhaps the competing smells distracted them from their tension. Charlie, Deputy Mark, Sam, Jared, and I moved through the airport with ease. The soonest flight left in an hour and connected through Chicago. I would arrive in Jacksonville at about seven in the morning, a ten hour journey. Charlie bought me something to drink, and we walked to the gate. We chatted randomly, and I promised to call and update Charlie when I could. Soon the flight was boarding. I hugged everyone good-bye and said thank you. I was so grateful to Sam and Jared, and I think they really understood how I felt. Both wished me well and luck in my new life.

I got on the plane feeling many conflicting feelings: relief at putting things behind me, anxiety about the future, sorrow for the loss of what I had seen as wonderful relationships that were now exposed for horror stories, and hope in seeing my mother and the sun and a new beginning. I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I didn't really pay attention to the other passengers or much of what was going on around me. It had been an emotionally exhausting day, so I put my head back and closed my eyes. It surprised me when the plane began to taxi into position on the runway, and I sat up to look through the window. I froze. Edward was there on the runway. He wasn't doing anything that would expose him as a vampire. He stood off to the side of the terminal building looking at me with anguished eyes and his arms reaching toward me. I couldn't breathe. He was stalking me again. I was suddenly scared that it wouldn't end. That he wouldn't leave me alone. That I couldn't get away from him. I couldn't pull my eyes away from his beautiful face, but mercifully the plane moved, and soon Edward was behind me. The image of him standing there, pleading with me with his burning eyes and arms cut at me—as deeply and as painfully as Jacob's howl. They would make my flight from them as difficult as possible. They would show their pain in their last gestures to defeat my will, my choice to leave.

Angrily, I dug through my bag for _Hamlet_. Ophelia had been crushed by the monster men in her life. I needed a strong reminder about why I had to leave and about why I couldn't see them anymore (Edward and Jacob). Ophelia had been so played, and she couldn't see the web of lies they wove around her. I would be different. I would disentangle myself from their lies and create a different life, a life where I chose what I wanted to do and who I wanted to do it with (if I wanted company at all).

What would it have been like for Ophelia if she suddenly saw it all differently. If she realized that Hamlet was lying and manipulating those around him in his attempt to expose Claudius for the murderer he was. After Hamlet's insulting, confusing, and frightening tirade ordering her to a nunnery, what if she had turned around and called him on it? What if she said, "How dare you question my honor? How dare you twist things around until they appear false? You don't deserve me if you are going to treat me like this? Who needs Denmark? I'm going to seek my fortune in Norway—maybe the Norse treat women better." What if she was able to walk away? It's all in the agency. Ophelia, fictional creation or representation of Renaissance English women, had little agency.

Under the English law, women were always dependent on the men in their lives without any legal status of their own. Thank heaven, for the Nineteenth Amendment and the Women's Movement. I am an entity under the law, and I have more opportunities and protections than most women in any other culture on earth. I choose to start again on my own. "Good-bye, Edward; good-bye, Jacob; stay away from me!" I thought to myself.

Flying Home

The journey was long, Seattle to Chicago and from Chicago to Jacksonville. The connection through Chicago was a painful reminder of Edward, but my mind floated back to Janie and Tea Cake and the other fictional women who kept wandering through my thoughts these days—women escaping or attempting to escape the men in their lives who abused them—women like me.

I realized with sudden stabbing pain and regret that Edward could have taught me to dance. I thought of Janie and Tea Cake again, and Tea Cake's gentle guidance in teaching Janie to shoot guns so that they were on equal footing in that skill (Janie even a little better than Tea Cake by the end). Edward could have taught me. In a symbolic way, it would have established a different kind of relationship between us. Of course, his vampire grace and my extra-human clumsiness would have made it challenging, but he never offered, and I didn't realize I should have asked. At the prom, I danced with him like a five year old with her father—my feet on his while he twirled me around. Real dancing, the backward and forward movements, the give and take of the partners responding to each other and the music, it seemed like a metaphor for a perfect relationship between true partners. But Edward didn't see me that way—would never see me that way. He never offered to teach me to dance or to teach me anything, for that matter. Sure, he helped me with school work, but that was different. And Jacob could have taught me about motorcycles and the cars he loved so much, but he too never invited me to do more than watch him performing skills or tasks that he was good at, and I didn't understand. Of course, he taught me to ride the bike, and that was a skill, but taking apart an engine, fixing and rebuilding it were skills he never thought to share with me or to invite me to engage in. If I could fix my own bike or my own truck, I wouldn't be dependent on him. Teaching me to ride the bike was fine; it was something we could do together as well as apart, but teaching me auto mechanics might make me independent; he couldn't have that. It was painful to make these realizations, but they confirmed for me that leaving them was the right choice.

Jacksonville is where I hope to find my peace, away from the monsters who threaten me. Instead of throwing men at me, I hope my mother will allow me to lie under Janie's blooming pear tree and explore myself, my world, and my relation to that world. The sun should help me cut through the fog and mist of my recent past, the distorted images of the men in my life.

My mother, Renee, was waiting for me at the airport. She was waiting for me at the gate; her face was both eager and worried at the same time. She looked the same as ever, medium length brown hair framed her beautiful face, and her crystal blue eyes sparkled with tears and excitement. She hugged me and kissed by forehead.

"Oh, Bella, I have missed you so. It is so good to see you and feel you. I am so sorry you're having a hard time, dear, but we'll sort it out. We can take all the time we need," she said.

"Thanks, Mom," was about all I could choke out. Charlie had clearly told her about the police reports as well as the flight information.

She didn't press me further. She took my free hand, and we walked through the airport. When we got to the car, a light blue Prius, she began filling me in on all the things going on in Jacksonville. What Phil, her husband, was up to. He was still coaching little league and playing minor league ball. Kindergarten was great and finished for the summer. She had cleaned out her classroom and was working on her garden at home and ideas for next year's projects and a new reading list. She told me about the neighbors; it was all small talk. I knew that she was burning with curiosity but that she realized what I needed to talk about was so important and painful that she didn't want our conversation about it to be either distracted by traffic or rushed. The little yellow house in Jacksonville was just as charming as I remembered it from by trip earlier with Edward. It had a little porch and three bedrooms and two bathrooms on the second floor.

She showed me to my room and left me alone briefly to call Charlie and tell him that I was safely in Jacksonville. Then, she returned and helped me with putting my things away in the dresser, closet, and bathroom. It surprised me that many of the things (things that seemed inappropriate for Washington weather) that I had not taken to Forks but had left in Phoenix were in the dresser, closet, and even in the bathroom all ready. It didn't take very long, and again we chatted about light subjects. There was apparently a whole range of colleges in the area in addition to Florida Community College at Jacksonville and Saint Johns River Community College. She said that she had asked for information from the community colleges but also from the University of North Florida, Jacksonville University, Everest University, and Florida State College at Jacksonville—but we could branch out from those if I wanted.

By the time we had caught up and put my things away, it was lunchtime. Phil was training, so mom and I had lunch alone. We fixed a big salad and made fresh ice tea. After lunch, mom drove me around the neighborhood pointing out various stores and other points of interest. It was hot and humid, so I was glad we had opted for the car tour. We stopped at the grocery store to pick items that I hadn't been able to bring with me due to airport security. Having taken the red-eye from Seattle, I was a little tired by the time we got home. Mom noticed and sent me up stairs to lie down before Phil came home. I was tired, so I lay down and easily fell into a dreamless sleep for a few hours.

I woke up refreshed. Phil was home by the time I came downstairs. He gave me a big hug and asked about my flight and the day and then discretely left my mother and me alone. Mom had thought tacos might be fun for dinner, so I joined her in the kitchen to help with chopping vegetables and grating cheese. As she fried up hamburger, she asked if I wanted to tell her about things. I hedged.

"I do want to talk to you about Edward and Jacob and everything in Forks and why I am here, but it is an involved story, and there are parts I still don't understand. It's painful too. I thought that tomorrow we could go to the beach, and I could start to try and tell you." She looked at me with her piercing eyes. I realized that her eyes reminded me of Jacob's father's eyes, Billy Black's. Though I always emphasized the childlike in my mother's eyes, there was something else, something ancient and wise, something powerful, something I hadn't been able to recognize before.

She smiled at me and came over to hug me and kiss my forehead again. "Sure, Bella, I am just so sorry you are hurting," she said.

It was a pleasant day and evening. I recounted stuff about my friends in Forks (not about the supernatural people) and about graduation and Charlie over dinner. It was good to see Phil; he seemed the same, light sandy hair and happy, deep blue eyes. Still young, but obviously smitten with my mother. They were easy to be around, partners; it was a natural closeness that didn't make me uncomfortable and seemed fairly reciprocated between the two of them—something my relationships, of course, had completely lacked.

After dinner, I looked through my mother's books and grabbed a collection of Emily Dickinson's poems and curled up in a chair. My mother also read. Phil spent some time organizing sports equipment in the garage. I excused myself after a while and headed up to bed. "The Soul selects her own Society" struck me in particular:

The Soul selects her own Society—

Then—shuts the Door—

To her divine Majority—

Present no more—

Unmoved—she notes the Chariots—pausing—

At her low Gate—

Unmoved—an Emperor be kneeling

Upon her Mat—

I've known her—from an ample nation—

Choose One—

Then—close the Valves of her attention—

Like Stone—

"The Soul selects her own Society" as I will select mine, I mused. I will be unmoved by the lures of seemingly divine or at least supernatural distractions though they pose as princes or saviors. Only in my own society can I find the completeness that I seek, and at perhaps a later time, with a partner who accepts me for who I am and what I am and who doesn't attempt to manipulate my actions or motivations, with an equal and honest partner, perhaps I could seek closeness again. But that was something that I couldn't imagine being ready for at the moment.

In my new room which was cheery and bright, decorated in golden yellows that reminded me of the golden sun and bountiful harvests, I drifted off to sleep thinking about my power to select my own society. Who were the people that I would seek to surround myself with? I envisioned myself in a classroom and wandering a campus full of fresh new faces—some who were familiar with college life and some, like me, who were new but eager for a new beginning, a new start, new possibilities. It was a hopeful vision, an empowered vision, a vision of freedom and release. The dream began to shift. There were ache and longing. They pulled me back to what I knew—the unhealthy, the abusive. I saw Edward and Jacob. I ached for them. I saw myself trying not to walk back to them—each with his arms outstretched to encircle me in his arms, to imprison me. Though I wanted to go to them, to both of them, my mother's voice called to me, "Bella, Bella, where are you?" "I cannot be with you, either of you!" I screamed, and I turned and ran toward my mother's voice. The sun and the ocean and my mother came into view. I was safe. I lay on the beach next to my mother in the sun. The warmth of the sun and my mother's love washed over me, and my sleep became blissful and deep.

When I woke in the morning, the room was filled with bright sun shine. In the golden room, it seemed to intensify. It was such a different gold than in Edward's room where the colors were golden brown but not bright, not warm, not reminiscent of the sun. I felt rested. I got up and groomed myself. I looked at myself in the mirror of the bathroom vanity. It was comforting to see that though I looked pained and stressed, I did not look like the zombie I knew that I once was when Edward had left me and I had been devastated by that loss. This time, I had chosen the separation. I had ended my relationships with Edward and Jacob and gotten them to agree to leave me alone. It had been painful, more than painful, almost unendurable. But I had done it.

Teeth brushed, hair brushed, and dressed in a T-shirt and shorts—finally; I went down stairs to start the day. Phil was already gone, but mom was waiting for me.

"What do you want for breakfast, baby?" she asked. "Or do you want to go out?"

"I don't want to go out," I answered. "But I don't know what I want either. Have you had something? What do you want?" I asked.

"I have some fresh strawberries. What do you think about strawberries and ice cream for breakfast?" she asked smiling.

"That sounds excellent!" I laughed in reply.

So she pulled strawberries out of the refrigerator and started washing and culling them. In no time, we both sat perched at the kitchen table with bowls of strawberries and ice cream. It was silly and luxurious—but it was so mom. How I had missed this.

After we finished, the time was only about 9:00 AM. "What next?" she asked. "What do you feel like doing today?'

"The beach," I suggested. "Why don't we play it by ear? We can start there and see what else we feel like."

"Do you have a bathing suit?" she asked.

"I didn't have one in Forks," I said; "did you bring some from Phoenix?"

"Go look and see if anything fits; we can always shop before the beach if you don't like what you find," she replied slyly.

I bounded up the stairs. In a drawer with my underwear and bras, there were also a range of my old bathing suits and couple new ones with the tags still on. I didn't feel ready for a bikini, so I chose the new, one-piece, tie-dyed, bathing suit and threw the T-short and shorts back on over top.

When I made it down stairs, mom was packing a cooler bag with water bottles and snacks. She had her hair pulled back and a bathing suit and cover up on. Another bag was overflowing with towels and sunscreen with a few novels thrown on top. Before we left, we slathered ourselves with sunscreen. Being so pale, I was very careful to cover myself completely—afraid of what the Florida sun might do me after a winter and spring of Washington cloud cover and my abnormally pale skin.

We drove to the beach. It didn't take long. Since it was Tuesday, the beach was pretty much deserted at 9:30 AM except for fishermen and shell collectors and avid exercise enthusiasts. We spread out a blanket and sat watching the ocean for a long while. I was sitting up on at the left edge of the blanket, my legs spread in front of me. With my left hand, I traced patterns in the sand.

Finally, I took a deep breath and began. "Remember when Edward and I came to visit you earlier this year? Remember how you felt there was something you were missing about our relationship? About how you sensed that we were so intense about each other?"

"Yes," my mother answered encouragingly. Her eyes were full of concern and warmth. She turned to sit with her back to the ocean, so she could see my face and hear me better.

"Well, you were more right than you knew," I continued. "I fell madly and insanely in love with Edward, and the intensity of that love blinded me to certain aspects of our relationship. He lied to me and manipulated me. He was controlling and psychologically abusive. I made excuses for his behavior. I rationalized it. He made me feel that our love was so special and unique that I couldn't bear for that romantic image to be shattered. I felt dependent on him; I felt safe only around him, and I distanced myself from you and my other friends." I paused.

My mother's face was full of alarm. "What did Charlie do about this? Didn't he notice," she accused.

"That's just it, Mom; I sort of hid it from Charlie and from everyone, really. From my other friends, even from myself," I said. "I just think I was so wrapped up in the situation, that I couldn't see it very clearly; I couldn't be objective; I was too involved," I struggled to explain. "It is only in the last two days that I've forced myself to see my relationships differently."

"Relationships?" my mother asked. She caught the plural and looked at me sharply.

"Yes, relationships. You know that when Edward left earlier this year that I started spending a lot of time with Jacob Black. It seems that I moved from one unhealthy relationship to another. Jacob is another problem, and he seems just as bad for me as Edward. I had to get out of Forks; I had to get away from both of them. I don't trust myself enough to be so close to them—to avoid them as I need to do. And I don't trust them to stay away from me, to let me be and heal. Florida is good, a safe distance. I don't know if its safe enough, but it is better than Forks," I explained.

"But what about your father in all this?" she asked again. "What was Charlie doing about this?"

"I told dad yesterday, and I had him there when I explained things to Edward and then Jacob. Charlie feels badly. He didn't see, and I kept things from him. You know he is not the most emotionally open person in the world. He tried to give me a sex talk this year—well, let's just say it was excruciating. Between what I didn't tell Charlie about, what I lied to him about, and what he didn't ask about, a lot stuff happened that shouldn't have," I confessed. "Did dad tell you about the Domestic Abuse reports and the Protection from Abuse orders I made at the police station?' I asked.

"Yes," my mother answered cautiously. "He told me yesterday. I'm so sorry, honey. Do you want to be specific, Bella? What did they do to you? What made you see things differently? How can I help?" she asked.

"When I think about it, Mom, there were so many little things. Edward hid things from me from the beginning of our relationship, and the hidden things and the lies he told, I realize now, got me to do things or chose things that he wanted me to do. He was behind us coming to see you this year. He even got me to agree to marry him," I added.

My mother's eyes widened, "You were going to marry him? Bella, you are so young, and he was hurting you?" she shuddered as she said the last words.

"Yes, I agreed to marry him, but that is over now. I can see that I was never his partner or equal, and that knowledge makes me adamantly determined to have him out of my life. To leave him behind, and to move on," I said with conviction.

"And Jacob?" mom asked quietly.

"Yeah, it's a bit of a love triangle—as melodramatic as that may sound. When Edward left, I started hanging out with Jacob. For me, it was just a friendship, but Jacob always wanted it to be more. As you remember, I was pretty devastated when the Cullens left Forks, so I wasn't the best judge of character about my relationship with Jacob, but it clearly followed a similar unhealthy pattern. He lied to me and manipulated me. I felt dependent on him, and he used that to make me feel helpless without him. Well, then Edward and the Cullens came back, and even though I got back together with Edward, I still had an uneasy relationship with Jacob," I explained.

I sighed and looked at my mother. She still seemed confused. She didn't understand where this was going, so I continued. "Saturday, I realized that I loved both of them. I loved Edward more, and I agreed to marry him. But what I also realized was that they were fighting over me. They had been fighting over me all year. That although they may have loved me at some point, their battle over me was more engaging to them than I was. And I finally could see some of the scheming and conniving behind their actions and guess at the extent of more of their plans. It felt sickening. I felt so used and betrayed. I realized that they were monsters and that they were hurting me, and I knew I had to get away," I confessed quietly.

"Oh, Bella, baby. I am so sorry. What do you want to do now?" she asked.

"I don't know exactly, Mom," I answered. "I want to be in the sun, and I want some time to just be by myself. I think I would like to see a therapist for a while. I think it is important that I have realized I was in abusive relationships and that I have found a way out of those relationships, but I am very concerned that when I tried to leave one abusive relationship (Edward) that I walked straight into another one (Jacob). This seems to be a disturbing pattern for me, and I am anxious to learn good strategies to avoid repeating an attraction for abuse." I sighed and continued. "I miss them. I still love them, so it is painful to be alone, but the pain is muted by the knowledge of what they have tried to do to me. So I am angry at them and at myself for allowing them to do this to me. I don't know. I feel like I want time alone, and then again, I am afraid to have too much time alone. I think I need to find a job here, and I am thinking about registering for classes in the fall. I need stuff to do; positive things to concentrate my time and energy on. I don't know where I want to go to school next year, but I should meet new people and have productive outlets for my time and attention. Taking some classes and working should help me move forward and keep me occupied," I added.

"Yes, sweetie, I think taking classes in the fall is a good idea. Do you have any idea what you want to do with your life? What kind of job are you interested in? I have seen a therapist myself on occasion," she said rolling her eyes and laughing at herself, "but it might be better for you to see someone specializing in abuse. I will ask around," she promised more earnestly.

I didn't really have anything else to say. The sun was so warm and soothing on my skin. I lifted my face toward the sun and let it bask my face. Inside my head, my thoughts raced and wandered. I missed them so. Edward and his perfect face, his musical voice, and his sweet scent. I missed the idea of our love being the fairy tale that he shaped it into, but so much had been a creation to entrap me. He was a monster; I had to leave him behind. Jacob, my friend and unexpected other love. His wide, happy smile, but that was gone too. I knew too well the designs he had create to "win" me. How could they both be monsters? Horrible ache and longing welled up in me followed by anger. Tears streamed from my eyes and spilled over my cheeks. My breathing became irregular gasping. My mother moved to my side and put her arms around me, and I cried in her arms. She patted my back and tried to sooth me, but she didn't stop me. She just let me cry. Eventually, the rhythmic lapping of the waves and the cries of the gulls pulled me from the pain that I felt.

"How are you?" my mother asked scrutinizing my face.

"Not so great, really," I answered wiping the last of the tears from my face.

"Bella," my mother said, "I know that I have joked with you and called you middle aged, but I would like to talk to you about that. You are a very mature and earnest child. You have always been. You are very responsible, and you take on much responsibility. That has been good for us because I can be so irresponsible at times, but you are still a very young woman, eighteen. High school is finished now, but college and a professional life wait for you in the future. And more. Physically/biologically you are an adult woman, but between eighteen and your mid-twenties, you have emotional and psychological growth to do," she hesitated, and I looked at her quizzically.

She continued a little awkwardly, "I just don't want you to rush into anything. I want you take your time. The idea of you considering marriage at eighteen just makes me anxious; you have a considerable amount of psychological maturation ahead of you. I didn't realize that at nineteen when I married your father and had you shortly after. I thought of myself as grown, but I really didn't feel fully self-aware until I was in my mid-twenties. It is hard to explain. In my teens and early twenties, I was still self-conscious and unsure of myself, and then in my mid-to-late twenties, it was different somehow. I was more confident, more secure. Again its hard to explain, but I feel like I really came to know and understand myself in my mid-twenties. It was a change I didn't expect, but it really changed my perspective on who I was. It will happen to you too. If I may suggest something?" she looked at me cautiously, and I nodded in encouragement. "You might find Carol Gilligan's _In a Different Voice_ an interesting read, and _Women's Ways of Knowing_ by Mary Field Belenky and crew is also really eye-opening. Just think about it, okay?" and she flashed me an apologetic smile.

"I will think about it, Mom," I answered. I was slightly amused with the idea of my mother offering me advice about maturity, but Carol Gilligan's name rang a bell, and I was looking for new reading materials anyway. It couldn't hurt anyway. Suddenly, I remembered Rosalie Cullen chiding me about being too young to know what I wanted out of life. She was right. I wanted Edward so badly, but I hadn't thought past that to how I would spend the rest of my life and what I would do with my future. The Cullen kids were frozen in a twisted Neverland where they never grew up and perpetually played out the age range of perhaps a ten year span, but probably less, seven to eight years (16-24). Only Carlisle contributed meaningful to the communities they lived in; the rest just played the masquerade. I wanted more from my life. Perhaps _Peter Pan_ was the wrong analogy. Was Edward like Alice's white rabbit, an impossible creature shrouded in fantasy and illusion who I followed into a wonderland where children transformed into animals and fiery crimson women or Volturi royalty threatened to execute anyone who annoyed them and the rules of normal society were turned upside down into a chaos of strange competitions and judgments? Like Alice, I finally saw the trial for the sham it was, and Edward and Jacob became not playing cards but men who sought to keep me in their separate illusions, and it was time to wake up and leave wonderland behind.

My mother interrupted my jumbled train of thought. "Do you want to take a walk?" she asked on a lighter note than her previous comments.

"Sure." I pulled myself up. We left our stuff there on the blanket and walked down to the water's edge and started to walk up the beach. There were more people on the beach now, so it was easy to look at them and be distracted. It was good to move too, to feel the sand and water underneath my feet.

As we walked, I thought about many things. What was I going to do now? I needed a routine—a job, maybe a class or something. My mother was taking a yoga class; why not? It might be fun. I needed to look at the local colleges and their course offerings. What did I want to do with my life—now that I wanted to stay human? Considering that I couldn't stand the smell of blood, anything medical was probably out. That really didn't narrow it down too much. My mother was a teacher. Could I want something like that? I didn't know. What I did know was that I was irritated that so much emphasis was placed on impossible or unequal romance stories, and suddenly I had a burning desire to make sure adolescents knew other stories, so they could make smarter choices for themselves and see different options. I needed to read more broadly too. I needed to visit the local library. As we returned to our blanket, I realized it had been a good morning and a good walk. I had some direction, some problems to sort out that would occupy my mind and keep me busy. It was near noon, so we packed up and headed home for lunch. Even with 50 SPF sunscreen, I wasn't sure it was wise to risk my skin with too much more sun exposure.

We had a simple lunch of yogurt and more strawberries with apples and pears too. My mother made some calls to previous therapists. Betsy Solomon came highly recommended for adolescent abuse cases, and my mother scheduled an appointment for me with her.

My mother explained where the local library was, and I set off with a piece of mail addressed to me in Jacksonville (as proof of residency) and some vague ideas about the kinds of books I was interested in exploring. Zora Neale Hurston had me thinking about Alice Walker's _The Color Purple_ and Maya Angelou's _I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings_, books about women who under the most demoralizing circumstances find ways to re-invent themselves and find strength in themselves. At the library, I was pleasantly surprised to find that they were looking for part-time help for which I applied cheerfully.

I was delighted to find out that I got the job at the library. My schedule would be 3-9 PM Monday, Wednesday, Friday, which would accommodate morning classes or Tuesday/Thursday classes in the fall. The days fell into an easy rhythm between work and mornings with my mother and time at the beach. Though the longings for Edward and Jacob remained, I felt good. It was true that I broke down and cried at times, but I knew that I was better off without them. I imagined myself without them, and that vision, of me free and surviving on my own, drove me forward.

A New Beginning

When I woke up in the morning, in my bright cheery room with the sunlight flooding through the windows, I was excited. I was meeting with the therapist today, and I felt good about this next step.

Mom was waiting downstairs. There was coffee and toast and orange juice sitting out for me. "Good morning, honey. How are you?" she asked.

"I'm fine, Mom, thanks," I answered.

"How did you sleep?" she asked.

"Okay," I replied suspiciously, "why?" My dreams lately were conflicted. Edward and Jacob appeared and beckoned to me, some times more convincingly than at other times, some times separately, and some times together. It was always painful to realize that I was dreaming about them and missing them, longing for them. But then the dreams would shift and I would see them victimizing women, Little Red, Ophelia, Nora Helmer, Edna Pontillier, Janie Crawford, myself. I often woke up gasping, feeling like I had just escaped, run a great distance to get a way, or broken through suffocating waters. I didn't cry out or scream; I had gotten away, the terror, the monsters, were behind me. Had I made more noise than normal?

"You just seemed a little restless, and I was wondering if you were nervous about today, with Dr. Solomon?" she said quietly.

"I am actually really looking forward to talking to Dr. Solomon, so that is not making me uneasy at all. There is still a lot of baggage, Mom. My dreams aren't exactly fairy tale material these days," I confessed.

"I understand, sweetie," she answered. "So Dr. Solomon at 10:30, and then I thought we could check out Jacksonville University and grab some lunch there before you need to go to work. We've seen the community colleges, and we can go to North Florida University next week. What do you think?"

"I think it sounds great, Mom, really," I added.

I didn't really know how to prepare to meet Dr. Solomon. I knew that I had questions. I knew that I would want suggestions and strategies to follow—so I figured that I needed a pen and a notebook just in case I needed to write things down. I knew that I would need to tell her about Edward and Jacob—not everything. Telling her that I had a love triangle with a vampire and a werewolf would probably get me institutionalized or, at the least, on very strong medication. But there was enough that I could tell her, enough that was unhealthy, controlling, manipulative, and abusive. I just needed to be careful to keep the supernatural out of my stories.

Suddenly, it was time. Mom drove me over. Dr. Solomon had an office in her home's converted garage. Mom parked the car and walked me into the office. Dr. Solomon greeted us both warmly and shook our hands. She insisted on being called Betsy. She looked about fifty-five years old with steel gray hair about shoulder length and large glasses magnifying her dark brown eyes. Mom made herself comfortable in the waiting room, and I followed Betsy into a cozy little room with squashy armchairs and a love seat and a desk in the corner. The room was decorated in yellow, aqua blue, and a light green. I was calming and pleasant. Betsy beckoned me to take a chair, and she sat in one opposite pulling a notebook to her lap.

"Hello, Bella, as you know, I am Betsy Solomon, and I believe that you have had problems with some boys you know and would like to talk to me about that. Do I understand correctly?" she asked.

"Yes, Betsy. I – I'm not sure how to begin," I said haltingly.

"Why don't you tell me about them, each one, and then explain why you think the relationships were bad," she encouraged.

So I began. I told her about moving to Forks and the Cullens and my fascination and crazy love for Edward. I told her about his lies and manipulation, about the stalking, and the anger, about my feelings of dependence and helplessness. I told her about how Edward had gone away, and how I had started seeing Jacob. I told her about how my relationship with Jacob also was characterized by lies, manipulation, and anger. I explained how Edward had come back, and how I had gone back to him, and the contest between Edward and Jacob over me, and I told her how finally, suddenly, I saw the relationships differently; I saw them as abusive instead of how they wanted me to see them. And I told her how once I saw them that way, I knew I needed to get away, to leave, to free myself of them. I cried occasionally while telling the stories, and she deftly produced a box of tissues any time I needed it. She took notes as I spoke. She listened and occasionally prompted me to clarify a point before moving on with my story. I wasn't really sure how long I talked to her. She seemed in no hurry, and I wasn't concerned about the time though I was sure I had been there more than an hour. When I seemed to have talked myself through the whole story, as much of it was I was ready to tell right then, she was ready to speak.

"Bella, I think you have been through an enormous ordeal, and I think you are right to see the strategies that these boys/men have used against you as abusive. I would like you to come to see me regularly for a while so we can sort through the complexities of these relationships, and I also would like to give you some homework. I would like you to keep a journal, actually two journals. In your journals, I want you to write about the ways you were treated by Edward and Jacob and how and why you can see those behaviors now as abuse. I also want you to write about ways that you see yourself as worthy and to imagine ways that you could stand up for yourself. I will ask you to alternate between the journals. So this week you will write in the first journal about both topics and then leave that journal with me next time I see you, and while I read and respond (if that's what you want me to do), you will write in the second journal, and we will alternate journals weekly. If you want, I can make suggestions or comments about your entries. But I don't have to. So I want you to think about that and let me know next week if you want me to respond to what you write. If you do want me to respond, you will need to leave me space between your entries in which I can write my comments. If writing about yourself is challenging, you may write about female characters from fiction or films (about seeing worth in them and how they stand up for themselves). Do you like to read, Bella? What kinds of books capture your attention?" she inquired.

"I do like to read, quite a bit actually. Lately, I have been too engrossed with impossible romances it seems, but I am trying to branch out. I have been looking at Henrik Ibsen, Kate Chopin, and Zora Neale Hurston lately—at alternative ways that women define themselves and find meaning in their lives," I explained.

"Excellent," Betsy says. "If you wouldn't mind one more assignment, I think you might enjoy or find interesting Azar Nafisi's _Reading Lolita in Tehran_. It is not a happy book, but a significant part of the book talks about the conflict between identities forced on Iranian women and their struggles to create and imagine alternative identities for themselves, identities of empowerment and self-determination, and I think those are some of the themes you may be looking for in Ibsen, Chopin, and Hurston. I am quiet familiar with the Nafisi book, so we could discuss how it might relate or not relate to you if you like."

"I like that idea. I have been wondering what to read next," I add smiling slightly.

"I would also like you to attend a support group once a week for women who have experienced abuse; I can give you the names and contact information for several in this area; it is important to know that you are not alone and that there are resources and strategies for women who have faced abusive situations so that they can move past them and have normal and fulfilling lives. I would also like to know if you have been in contact with police in Forks about the abuse from Edward and Jacob. Have you?" she asked.

"Yes, I have. I made Domestic Violence reports against both Edward and Jacob, and my father was going to use those to get Protection from Abuse orders from the court," I replied quietly. "I wanted to give them incentives to leave me alone."

"I think that you should inform the police here in Jacksonville as well and check on the status of the PFAs here in Florida. You are at the most risk when trying to truly free yourself from abusive partners. They both know you are here, and the paper trail should be firmly established just in case." She read the alarm in my face and added, "Hopefully, it won't come to that, but we should take the precautions that we can," she said gently.

She continued, "You have told me the overview of what has happened to you today. In other sessions, we will focus on specific incidents of abuse and on strategies for avoiding abusive relationships and of finding and maintaining healthy relationships. I think that you are an amazingly courageous young woman, and I look forward to working with you over the next few months. What questions can I answer for you?" she concluded.

I looked at her deep brown eyes, and the concern and sincerity in them, but I didn't really have any questions. The journals seemed reasonable to me as did the support group. I needed to meet new people anyway; contacting the police I could also understand, and I looked forward to the book. We would be hashing through it, my relationships with monsters, and I would get strategies for more healthy relationships. I shook my head, "No, Betsy, I don't have questions for now. The journals sound good and so does the support group and talking to the police—I understand the needs. I am also very interested in broadening my reading base. I need help, and you seem willing to give that to me. The test will be in a couple of months—how much I feel that I have gained, how much I have moved on past my pain, how much more confident I feel about myself and my choices. It will take time, and I can wait and see for now," I said.

She smiled at me. "I am sure you will have questions before the month is out, but you are right that this isn't a quick fix and that it may take a while. I do hope in a couple of months that you do see changes and progress. If you don't, you should absolutely be asking questions if not more," she said. "Friday at 10:30 AM is a good time, then?" she asked. I nodded in response. "Bella, the most important thing is to see yourself as empowered over your own life and your own decisions. You are a bright, pretty, independent woman—who has been brutalized—but who can move beyond that. You can't imagine yourself as an ugly duckling needing to transform into a swan or whatever fantasies Edward and Jacob wished for you. You need to imagine yourself and see yourself as the best possible person independent of the opinions of others and especially independent of people who try to shape you into their fantasies. The great heroines of myth and fairy tale always find the power to transform their circumstances and their lives _within_—they always had the power, the strength, and the beauty to conquer evil, they just had to realize those qualities in themselves. We will work on this, okay?" she said firmly.

"Yes," I nodded, the tears welled up in my eyes but didn't spill over. "Thank you for seeing me, Betsy."

She stood up and crossed to the desk where she took several business cards from a drawer. She handed them to me and said, "These have the contact information for three local support groups. You can pick one or you can try all three and see which one you prefer." She looked into my face and smiled again. As I stood up to leave, she gave me a hug.

I had known gapping holes in my chest from the loss of Edward and Jacob. There were wounds there now, but they were dull. I saw them now as self-inflicted wounds that I needed to recover from—that I could recover from. Betsy's words and concern made me feel that I could do that. I could heal. And that was the end of my first therapy session. It felt good. It felt good to talk it all through with someone other than my family members. It felt good to have my experiences confirmed as abuse, again by a professional. It felt good to be doing something proactive to heal or protect myself (the journals, the support group, the police, the unfamiliar—were clearly parts of that, so all were welcome). Mom was waiting, and we walked quietly to the car.

"Well, what did you think?" she asked.

"I think it was a good start, Mom. It will take time, you know that," I added. I didn't really want to talk about the therapy session, and I had already told her the outlines of my relationships with Edward and Jacob, so there wasn't much else to discuss. "She seems nice, and I think it will help," I concluded.

Mom nodded, and we drove to Jacksonville University to take a peek and get something to eat for lunch.

As we drove home from JU, my mother, the kindergarten teacher, who had been doing research on fairy tales, told me a version of "Little Red Riding Hood" that I had never heard before. It was an old French version—unedited by the Christian male biases of folk tale collectors like Charles Perrault and Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. In this version, the mother sends Little Red to her grandmother with bread and wine, and she journeys through the forest to deliver the goodies to her grandmother. Along the way, she meets a werewolf (not a wolf, I noted) who asks her which way she is going. She takes one path, and he takes another. He beats her to her grandmother's house, and he kills the old woman, butchers her, and gets rid of her body. When Little Red arrives, he tells her to put the goodies in the cupboard and take off her clothes and get in bed with him, disguised as her grandmother. Little Red obeys. Once she is in bed with him, she goes through the usual—"what big arms you have, what big eyes you have, what big teeth you have." But when the werewolf reveals that he is about to eat her, Little Red insists that she needs to go to the bathroom. He tells her to do it in the bed, but she insists on doing it outside the house. Begrudgingly, the werewolf ties a rope around Little Red's foot and lets her go outside. Once Little Red is outside, she quickly unties the rope and runs away home. Though the werewolf soon realizes that Little Red has tricked him, he is not fast enough to catch her before she is safely home, back at her mother's house.

While using needing to go to the bathroom was a crude ruse, I liked this version of Little Red for obvious reasons. There were no male saviors, though there was a predatory male monster stalking a young girl. There were a range of details about this version that I liked. One was that Little Red was not condemned to die. Though deceived by the monster, she was able to save herself, so she was not dependent on a prince or a huntsman or some other male savior. Also she found the safety and sanctuary that she needed in her mother's house, and Little Red was complete in her own person—she needed no mate or boyfriend or husband. How many tragedies involving gender relations could be viewed through the lenses of the neglectful or absent father and the abusing or controlling boyfriend/husband? Most women, Little Red Riding Hoods, Ophelia, and Edna Pontellier, were victims of predatory male desires. However, at least one Little Red, Nora, Janie, and I could escape the clutches of our demons and walk forward to embrace a new day and a new future, complete in ourselves, strengthened by bonds between women and the knowledge that women keep about being true to themselves above all else. At the end of _A Doll's House_, Torvald begs Nora for some way for them to reconcile. She tells him that it would take a miracle—that they would both have to change so completely that they could create together a "real wedlock" instead of the lies, contrivances, deceptions that have been their marriage. It is the kind of partnership of honest and respectful partners that Janie found with Tea Cake, that my mother seems to have with Phil, the kind I never had with either Edward or Jacob—but that I can perhaps find someday when I am ready, when I am healed.

And so I move on by myself but buttressed by my mother and literature about women who re-invent and empower themselves. I will try to find myself away from my self-absorbed father and my abusive ex-boyfriends. The thrill of the creation of myself as my own heroine and superhero drives me forward and makes me smile at the challenge.


End file.
